


Hey, Lover

by luxiian



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien and Marinette both need hugs, Alternate Universe - No Miraculous, Alya is the ultimate wingman, Author Adrien Agreste, Designer Marinette Dupain-Cheng, F/M, Lots of Angst, Some fluff cause you always need some fluff, They’re all just trying their best, adrienette - Freeform, happy ending i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29349999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxiian/pseuds/luxiian
Summary: Adrien Agreste is a lowly author seeking inspiration for an upcoming novel. Traveling back home to Paris, he unknowingly runs into the untouchable fashion designer, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.It turns out that love does not come easy, a lesson both figure out along the way.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 30
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien meets a mysterious woman in a bar and can't stop thinking about her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I had written this story on another platform, and since I adore it too much to let it go that easily, here I am a year and a half later reviving and rewriting it to perfection. 
> 
> PSA- Some of the characters may not be in the right headspace for a while since they are constantly in the public eye and don't respond well to their sudden shot to fame. I made sure to add in plenty of fluff to balance out some of the more angsty scenes and if needed, I will add trigger warnings to some chapters or scenes. 
> 
> Okay, rant over. (For now) ;)

He was  fucked.

Staring at the flashing phone in his hand as some sort of distraction from his poisoned reality, he sat up in the leather chair hesitantly. His publisher pursed his lips in frustration, turning the computer monitor to face him.

"Do you see this?" he pointed to a figure surrounded by drunk women in a sleazy bar, shirt all the way unbuttoned and a tie wrapped loosely around his head. "This photo was released early this morning."

"Oh, is that me?" Adrien leaned forward only to be pushed back down into his chair.

"Are you  _trying_ to throw your entire reputation away?" his publisher was clearly not very happy.

Often times, early in his career, he would get scolded for what seemed like an eternity. He wasn't all that surprised that he was still stuck in that same situation nearly a decade later. Normally, he would stare out the large glass windows instead of paying attention. Now however, he realized he was too old to be pulling these kinds of stunts.

"You're almost twenty-eight, Adrien." his voice sounded pained. "You can't just keep doing the same old shit over and over and expect no consequences."

His publisher and publicist stood up from his big, wooden desk and rubbed his temples. "I am sending you to Paris to find some sort of inspiration for your next novel. Think of this as a chance to get away from all of this drama and let it die down for a while."

Paris was his hometown, where he knew all the little nooks and crannies around. That included bars and where a line of women lived after they left him their phone numbers delved deep into the archives of his phone.

"I have been taking care of you since you were just a kid but this is the last straw. Clean yourself up and release something for once, dammit." 

Adrien shook his hand with a bright smile. "This is the start of a brand new Adrien Agreste."

* * *

It was not a clean slate for him after all. Currently, he was leaning over a toilet bowl in some dingy, backwater bar while a figure sat a little ways away from him. She crossed her legs and watched as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"I thought you would have been able to hold your liquor better." she teased. 

He leaned against the wall as he pushed back his damp blond hair. "How did I get into this mess?"

The woman slipped off her sunglasses and folded them on her lap. "Well, I assume you wanted to drink till you forgot something. Perhaps escaping?"

He saw her curious blue eyes light up. She was dressed in finer clothing than perhaps anyone else there. Her intuition was even greater.

"Correct." 

"I did not expect that I would be spending my Friday night in a bathroom of a bar while a stranger dances along the tightrope of death and sobriety." she smiled shyly. "My friend was the one who dragged me here, actually."

"Might want to rethink your choices of friends if they bring you to a place like this." Adrien chuckled. "I, on the other hand, am here out of complete will and self-hatred."

"We're both miserable!" she pulled him to his feet. "I should get back out there. Try not to die, Agreste."

He stopped her outside the bathroom entrance. "How did—"

She pulled up an article on her phone, a rather unfortunate picture of him throwing up on the cover of an article. "This  _ is _ you, isn't it?"

He inwardly cursed. "Apparently."

"For what it's worth, I actually enjoyed tonight. You were quite the dancer."

His memory was foggy. "We danced?"

She leaned closer to him in order so he could hear her over the blaring of the music. "I hope we can become partners again someday."

He was left standing there a mess and a half, the woman already gone without having said her name or given him her number. If he was lucky he could ask Nino and see if he knew of her. Nino knew everything courtesy of his nosy and tech-savvy girlfriend. 

Or was it fiancée?

He hadn't been home in almost five years after the death of his father. America had been a fresh start for him and his career had taken off rather unexpectedly. Now, however, he was caught in both countries rather drunk and ditching his once good-boy, pristine angel image. He thought the breakaway from his past self could turn into some sort of publicity stunt and actually gain him a larger following, but it turned out to be the opposite.

He was a marvel after the release of his first novel at the tender age of nineteen, having skyrocketed in success and money and women. Inevitably, his gaudy lifestyle took its toll on him and al he could do was sit back and watch it happen.

* * *

When he woke up in his sunlight-filled hotel room with the sheets kicked off and falling off of the edge of the bed, he took a quick shower before contacting Nino. He should not be this invested in a woman he had only known for a few hours but there was something about her that he could just not place.

Familiar, in a sense.

Nino agreed to meet up in a little cafe a few blocks down the street, sipping on hot lattes while they caught up on trivial things. It was nice to reunite after such a long time. His friend had not changed much from the last time they had seen each other, which Adrien supposed wasn't a bad thing. He wore nicer clothes and had grown out his hair a little, but he was still the same person when they met what seemed like eons ago. That was more than what Adrien could say of himself.  


"Did she give you her name?"

Adrien shook his head.

Nino sighed, making him go through a description of her. Adrien went a bit over the top in saying how lovely and caring she was despite limited conversation between the two of them.

"It's a long shot, but you might have been talking to Marinette." he reached behind him on another table where a stack of magazines sat.

"Marinette who?"

Nino pointed to the front cover where his mystery woman was draped in expensive looking clothes and a sultry pout on her lips. Dark lashes covered her bright blue eyes, although the image was cast in black and white. For some reason he couldn't get the blueness of her eyes out of his head.

"One of the most famous fashion designers in the world." Nino shrugged. "Alya and her are close friends, too."

"In the world?" he parroted. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Nino set down his little white cup and sat back in his uncomfortable chair. The mid-morning sun began harboring a slight chill during this time of year.

"Do you have her number?"

Nino winced. "Don't you think it would be kind of weird to text her out the blue? Maybe we could set up a meeting between the four of us instead."

He hadn't even considered that. "Of course."

"Although, she is very busy no matter what time of day or night, but I can see if she has time in her schedule for a few drinks." he sent Alya a message in question. "I'm hurt you don't even know Marinette. That  _is_ your crowd, isn't it?"

Adrien did not like that crowd. He was a popular author, sure, but he wasn't fame-hungry or desperate for attention either. No, he was an author who slept around and drank to pass the time and forget his bitter loneliness. Something he hated to admit to himself despite the truth behind it.

"Not really." he dropped his shoulders. "I'm here on some sort of writing escape forced by my publisher. He thinks I needed a change of scenery."

Nino cocked a brow. "In that case, Marinette is exactly what you need."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clear up any potential confusion, Adrien and Nino met years before this chapter's timeline. Alya is engaged to Nino and they are both friends with Marinette. Marinette does not personally Adrien and vice versa, although Marinette is secretly a fan of his writing. 
> 
> BRB got lots of editing to do. Stay safe, remember to drink some water and eat some food, and take care of yourselves! Also, try and get some decent sleep and don't fall asleep during class like me <3
> 
> Till next time!


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette reunite and get along better than they expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me wondering what my spirit cat antique would be: 
> 
> Also me: aggressively takes numerous quizzes to find out which cat breed I am
> 
> Spoiler alert: I'm a bengal cat

Slamming his computer screen closed, Adrien sighed heavily and pushed himself around the little hotel room in a swivel chair. He had come to Paris for some sort of inspiration yet found that the only thing he received was a blinding hangover.

"Maybe you should consider _not_ getting shit-faced every night?" Nino was scrolling through the shows on the television propped up on a black dresser.

"Gee, what a brilliant idea!" Adrien dug his palms into his eyes with an outward groan. "I just can't get her out of my head."

Nino perked up. "Marinette? When you fall, you fall hard."

Events from that night two weeks ago came flooding back in small bits and pieces. An innocent hand brushing past the other's shoulder, drink glasses clinking together in celebration of god knows what.

His favorite memory was actually recorded and put online for the world to see before promptly being deleted. Marinette's security must have seen the video and demanded privacy.

Never mind that it had already been reposted to dozens of accounts across every social media platform. They were dancing, leaning into one another with bright smiles despite the dark and blurry lighting. They spun and never let their bodies not be touching in some way or another for too long. He did not think they kissed but at the rate his heart rate picked up at the mere mentioning of her name was a dead giveaway.

"Why is life so complicated?" Adrien fell onto the bed on his stomach, pressing his face into a pillow.

"To keep you on your toes." Nino ended up raiding his fridge without his knowing, his bill racking up every beer can and container of nuts discarded.

They were both working on trying to get a meetup to happen between the four of them, but were having limited success due to Marinette's hectic schedule. Adrien couldn't imagine walking in her probably designer brand shoes for a day.

* * *

Alya popped by Marinette's office later that day, past people in business suits and pencil skirts firmly pressed and sharp. She felt a bit out of place wearing the clothes she had on for work that day. She worked as a reporter but dressed somewhat casually unless she needed to be on the air for a segment or an emergency report, which rarely happened. Holding the two coffee cups close to her chest, she stepped off the gold accented elevator and checked in with Marinette's assistant.

She was signing off on something, her dark hair pulled up in its usual tight bun, blazer left discarded along the back of her chair. Alya knew she wore stilettos at work but always brought slippers to wear in the privacy of her own office.

When they were alone, Marinette kicked off her shoes, her hosiery doing nothing to shield her feet from the chill of the floor.

"You brought me coffee!" she sipped at it thankfully. "You are a godsend, you know that right?"

Alya smirked. "Of course I do."

"I have been swamped all day trying to get the last bits and pieces of my collection put together." she moved over to the wide mirror hanging on her wall next to a row of fake potted plants and took out the hair tie keeping all her hair tame. "Can I take a six-year nap instead?"

Alya snorted. "You would miss my wedding if you did that, silly."

Shuffling back over to her friend and sinking into the most comfortable couch money could by, Marinette's eyes snapped open. "Of course! I have the final design ready for your dress."

"You are the best."

"I know." she did her best impression of Alya. "How's Nino? I feel like we never have time to just talk, you know?"

"Nino is Nino. He's been talking to that Agreste guy for a while. Apparently he's been asking about you." Alya hid her amusement as Marinette's cheeks turned a soft pink.

"I was trying so hard to be all passive and act cool with a dramatic exit that I completely forgot to ask him for his number."

"This just shows that you still got it." Alya snickered.

"Hey!" Marinette narrowed her eyes. "I _always_ had it."

"They want to meet up with us for lunch sometime soon." Alya read from her messages. "Apparently Monsier-Author-Dude is lovestruck."

Marinette scrunched her nose. "This is Adrien Agreste we're talking about. Beautiful novels, beautiful face. I don't know if I can be _just_ Marinette around him."

Bracing a hand on Marinette's shoulder, Alya sighed. " _Just_ Marinette is my favorite Marinette. Plus, you left out cute butt."

"Oh, right." she did not seem to know what she had just said before realization sank in. "I don't think about his butt like that!"

"You think about his butt?"

She fumed. "You don't know when to quit, huh?"

"Honey, I am your best friend. It's my job to be nosy. Or should I say, to _butt in_."

Marinette looked mortified, faintly calling for security before Alya tackled her.

* * *

When the four of them met up for lunch the next afternoon, to say Adrien was nervous was an understatement. Marinette was more intimidating wearing her professional attire and perfectly cherry red lips—no! He had been so woefully thrown out of his usual routine of sitting around and waiting for inspiration to write that it rattled him. In the best way possible.

As it turned out, they all relaxed after the first glass of wine. They were playing charades on Alya's phone while being _way_ too loud, but they were outside the bar anyway. Adrien was really bad at charades, while Marinette was surprisingly unbeatable. They hadn't even noticed that Alya and Nino were resisting laughter behind their hands as they sneakily escaped, leaving the two by themselves.

They eventually wandered by a park and sat at a bench, talking about insignificant things but hearing the other engage was comforting. Marinette had let her hair down by this point, talking about her new collection.

"You ruined your designs 'on accident' I'm sure." he laughed, Marinette protesting.

"I was on the phone when I grew extremely frazzled and sent my tea mug over and over the entire notebook. Designs all ruined."

"Frazzled?" he snorted. "You still use that word?"

"When was the last time you put out a book? Two, three years?"

He held up his hands in self-defense. "Was that _sass_?"

She opened her mouth to reply before closing it quickly. Grabbing him by the wrist, she dragged him into a store across the street, blindly paying attention to the rush of cars in the busy street. He didn't ask until she peered out the window partially blocked by white shelves decked in collectible antiques.

"What's wrong?"

She let out a deep breath. "Press."

He understood that almost too well. "Is it always like this?"

Marinette walked quietly around the store, her choice of shoes today being black kitten heels tapping against the floorboards. "More or less."

He needed to do something to lighten the mood and that would distract them both. Picking out a little white cat wrapped in a pink lace bow with bright blue painted eyes, he held it up in front of her.

"Your spirit cat."

She frowned. "Obviously my spirit cat is wearing _Chanel_ sunglasses and holding a red wine glass in its paws at all times."

"Well, I couldn't find one of those." he watched her smile bright and brilliantly, knowing that his little plan worked.

Marinette held a small kitten antique in her hands, pointing out the way it was laying on its back and mimicking a fight with its tiny paws. A baby blue ball of twine lay unraveled next to it, the cat's tail curled up beside it.

"This is you," she handed it off to him. "It just needs a little top hat."

"Why a top hat?"

"It's a fancy cat."

He laughed. "You really like cats, huh?"

She looked down at her feet, holding the spirit cat Adrien chose for her close to her chest. "I would adopt many if my landowner allowed me to."

"You're Marinette _fucking_ Dupain-Cheng. You are immortal and therefore can sneak one underneath a trench coat without raising suspicion." Adrien made the motion with his own cat and jacket before pulling it back out. "I don't want it to look like I'm stealing. I have a reputation to uphold, you know."

"Aren't you the author who stripped down to his underwear at the release party of your book a couple years back? I think I remember that they served an _unlimited_ amount of champagne." the lady working at the register called out.

Marinette lost it. She laughed until her sides hurt and paid for both her and Adrien's little cats before they left with a thankful wave to the sweet woman.

Adrien was not as amused, but hearing Marinette's laugh made it all worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My bby Marinette needs a break someone get this woman on a first class flight with a glass of wine in her hand please and thank you she deserves it (and if Adrien just so happens to be there too that wouldn't be a problem) ;,,,,)


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette looks after a very drunk Adrien.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me rapidly posting edited chapters and just reposting them on here from one platform to the next: yes this is fine this is okay

He was drunk again.

  
His shirt was unbuttoned almost all the way, one hand running through his hair as he wandered down the street still alive with the sounds of local bars playing live bands. He knew Marinette lived near this swanky part of the city.

"Marinette!" he called out sweetly.

She emerged from a window no later than a few minutes, wrapping a silk robe around herself quickly. "What are you doing here?"

"I seemed to have lost my wallet and my address." he tapped a finger to his lips. "No, I don't think I live in the North Pole."

Marinette rolled her eyes. "You seriously have a drinking problem."

"I wouldn't call it a problem as much as a need to forget without consequences while leaving behind a blinding headache." he stated as-matter-of-factly.

Marinette snorted into her hand. "I can take you back, you're lucky Alya gave me address just in case. Give me a minute."

She closed the window, probably changing into more appropriate clothes. He hated thinking that he woke her up with his annoying tendencies to drink and cling onto the first person that comes his way. Or, someone that stays in his head.

Someone passed by him walking an adorable dog, Adrien going down to coo and pet her before getting barked at rather savagely. He yelped and drew his hand back, backing up into a streetlight.

"She doesn't like strangers." the owner gave a pointed look. "Oh my God, you're Adrien Agreste!"

He frantically shook his head, trying to turn away from her. "You must have me confused with someone else."

"No, I know you!" she reached into her bag and pulled out his most notable work, _Miraculous_. The tale of a love struck prince enamored with a woman who will never feel the same way about him. Except, it takes place in modern-day and the guy is struggling more mentally as the reader discovers past the first five chapters.

"No, that's not me." he shook his head at the author picture slapped onto the back cover.

"Can I get your autograph?"

"Adrien!" Marinette to his rescue, as always. "My car is parked somewhere."

"Is it that convertible?"

Her eyes sparkled. "Yes! You know, you're pretty perceptive when you're drunk."

Adrien stumbled around a bit before settling in the car. Marinette had on sweats now and her hair was messy and unkempt--vastly different from her usual public image. When they came to a stoplight, he was caught staring.

"I was busy finishing alterations on my designs when you came barging in on me like some kind of eighties rom-com." she sighed but a small smile never left her lips.

"You work all the time." he leaned back gingerly in his seat, playing with the heaters. "You need to let loose every once in a while."

Turning up the music on the radio, his big green eyes sparkled when he realized the song playing.

"When the moon hits your eye, like a big—" he forgot the rest of the words.

"Pizza pie." she reluctantly joined in.

"That's amore!" he nudged her lightly, encouraging her all the more to join in on the next chorus.

She gave in, singing just as loud and off-key as he did.

"I've never been to Italy." Adrien pouted after a while, crossing his arms like a little kid. "I want to go someday."

"Milan is just wonderful in the summertime." Marinette hummed. "You would like it there. Unlimited wine!"

" _Kampai_!" he raised an invisible glass up to the dark and barely illuminated sky.

They approached his building, Marinette groaning when the elevator was conveniently out of service. She hauled him up the three flights of stairs, allowing him to use her as a crutch on the way up. The staircase reminded her of the one in _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ , the hotel being _much_ nicer before he "moved" into this dingy place. Faded wallpaper and crumbling paint with doors chipping slightly on the corners and the little golden numbers emblazoned on them slightly rubbed off.

He fumbled to open the door with his jangling keys, collapsing on a futon once inside. Marinette felt a weird sensation upon studying everything in the cramped space. It was not a nice or clean as hers, sure, but it felt homey.

_Lived in._

"I'll get you some water." she searched every cabinet until she found a clean glass and filled it about half way up. "You have any aspirin?"

He popped a few into his mouth before Marinette came over in a rush and made him spit them out.

"Don't take so many at one time!" she warned, his face tearing up like a little kid. "Don't do the puppy eyes, Agreste. It won't work on me."

"You're so pretty." he mumbled, taking big gulps of his water. "Your eyes look just like stars."

"Don't say things like that." she instinctively looked away.

"Am I not allowed to tell the truth?" his head lulled back on the futon, eyes briskly snapping open upon realization that he did not want this night to end. "Have you ever seen a shooting star before?"

She shook her head.

"Look in the mirror and you will find a whole night sky." he was slurring his words while gesturing broadly and being _so, so, so_ wholesomely drunk.

When she got up to leave, he tugged at her sleeve. "Wait."

"What?"

"Please stay with me until I fall asleep." he asked. "Not the whole night, just for right now."

She hesitated, her hand resting on the door knob before giving in. He fell asleep relatively quickly, Marinette finding a spare bucket in the corner of the room presumably for water leakage and set it beside him just in case.

Sprawled across a small coffee table sat a collection of notes and pages containing his writing no doubt. He had more of his own books lazily stacked along a dark bookshelf that looked as if it were built in the mid-1900's. She knew it wasn't right to snoop, especially when it was your vulnerable and extremely inebriated friend.

Friend.

She liked the way it rolled off her tongue so effortlessly.

_Friend._

Picking up a piece of paper, she could make out the first chapter and half a page not scribbled out in blue pen. It was difficult to read with the only light turned on being a lamp propped up against the living room wall.

_Chapter One_

_Untouchable._  
_Marvelously beautiful with the red nails of a viper's fangs. Her name was known around the town, yet she remained a notorious bachelor standing out from the rest. Pearly white gloves desperately wrapped around a long cigar as she took drags from her velvet lips. Glinting silver stones rested along her neck and nestled in the crown of her hair, a leash holding back the prowling beast inside, waiting to be called._

She set down the paper as gently as she could, brushing back Adrien's blond bangs for a moment before realizing what she was doing. His touch did not burn as she anticipated it to. Instead, it was more reserved and almost desperate.

"Please remember me in the morning." she whispered to herself, slipping away and back to the coldness of her lavish apartment.

* * *

Adrien woke half past one the next day, groaning as he rolled over and was blinded by warm, golden sunlight. He had forgotten to close his god-awful curtains last night before his little escapade. He looked at the bucket beside him and was tempted, holding it back when he saw his phone flashing several times.

**He Who Shalt Not Be Named**  
_Make any progress recently?_

**He Who Shalt Not Be Named**  
_Dammit, stop drinking and sober up_

**He Who Shalt Not Be Named**  
_I just know when you're drinking, I think it's an 'Adrien getting in trouble radar'_

_Two Missed Calls From_ **_He Who Shalt Not Be Named_ **

Rubbing his aching temples wearily, he picked up the phone uneasily and muttered out a vague greeting.

"I send you halfway around the world and this is how your repay me? I have the press all up and down my back! Agreste, you dumbass, you're lucky I'm such a good publicist." he shouted into the phone.

"Good Morning."

"Don't you ' _Good Morning_ ' me!"

"How's your day going?"

"Stop that!"

Adrien blinked his eyes innocently, despite the other man not being able to see him. "Stop what?"

"Have you written anything yet?" his publicist changed the subject, mostly out of mild annoyance.

Adrien yawned, clutching his growling stomach. "Bits and pieces."

"Bits and pieces don't sell, Adrien."

Adrien cocked a brow. "Oh yeah? What about poems?"

Another long sigh from the line. "Are you a poet?"

"No, I suppose I'm not," he frowned. "I can be."

"Stick to your audience, kid."

"I actually _like_ poetry, I'll have you know."

Silence.

"Granted, most of it pops up on my _Tumblr_ and _Pinterest_ dashboard which suspiciously knows that I've been watching anime online _probably_ illegally. Speaking of that—"

His publicist was not happy. "Not today, _Adrienka_." 

It was not often, but in some desperate moments, his publicist's natural Russian accent came to light and it was actually rather endearing. He did not, however, like being called Anya from the movie _Anastasia_. Adrien found that out the hard way.

"I'll send something over as soon as I get the draft down, yes?"

He gave along sigh. " _Da_."

"I love you." Adrien teased.

Grumbling and more grumbling. "I love you too."

He hung up the phone and tossed it aside. He found nothing in his fridge despite opening it over and over three times just in case something appeared. He headed out for a quick lunch, even bringing his computer just in case.

Commotion and tension were running high down the street, a long stretched limo rolling to a stop in front of a rather glamorous and matte black building. He recognized the white pumps almost immediately as they stepped out of the car first.

Were his knees going weak?

Long, curve-hugging dress and a shawl draped around her shoulders, her black sunglasses hiding her gorgeous eyes from any undeserving onlooker. Cherry red lips pulled back into a smile; the one she put on for the public eye.

Not the one he almost didn't remember last night as they sang Dean Martin in her car last night. She looked over his way, past crowds of people and pulled down her sunglasses until they sat comfortably on the tip of her nose.

She winked at him.

"Holy shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adrien's publicist/editor is totally Victor Nikiforov I am not going to deny. Like, seriously. Although in this life he is an editor and not a world renowned ice skater. Hey, this is my story and I make the rules so it's okay *wink wink*
> 
> Stay safe! Till next time!


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien goes to Marinette's apartment where they watch classic romance movies, get insanely drunk and eat ice cream while discussing their feelings and comforting each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I forgot to set my alarm this morning and missed my first online class of the day so that was nice BUT I ended it with ice cream and my dog stealing one of my socks so not all bad. Also, in case I don't post tomorrow, Happy Early Valentines Day! Let's all be lonely together. I'll bring the snacks and we can watch terribly rom-coms and cry.

She was all alone now. Faces dismissed as the silence of her office thickened. Her hand was but a lonely tremor upon reading through articles about her presence.

_Embarrassment._

_Failure._

_Worthless._

Comments like that didn't normally get to her except the days she let her exterior fall. Her legs felt weak, hands trembling as she fell to the ground. Her head pounded upon impact, thick blood trailing along the side of her face.

_Walls were closing in on her too fast._

She saw her parents faces, never completely happy. She remembered their funeral, clutching onto the hem of her skirt as she tried to hold back tears. She stood before hundreds of strangers and tried not to break no matter how hard it got.

_She_ had to be the strong one.

"Marinette? I brought you some—" his words were drowned out.

Warm hands braced her, his lips moving without any sound. She felt her eyelids start to fall, Adrien urging her to stay awake. He moved her to the couch, setting her down carefully before retrieving ice from her mini-fridge wedged into the corner of the room.

He wrapped it in the closest cloth he could find, pressing it against her forehead.

"What happened?" he was kneeling in front of her as she swallowed.

"Can you take me home?"

* * *

Stepping into Marinette's lavish apartment was like leaving the real world and entering some sort of false reality. That, or the world from the movie _The Labyrinth_. Gold accents and marble flooring. Candles burning as a gentle fire stirred by the velvet carpet. She left the TV on playing a classic romance movie.

As it turned out, Marinette had a weakness for _Singin' in the Rain_.

She had insisted that she did not have a concussion despite her head aching as she elicited a groan at each movement. Adrien fished out a proper ice pack while she propped up against the soft couch, much nicer than the sad looking futon he owned.

"Did you slip?" he asked once settled in the living room, sitting beside her a casual distance away.

She watched the iconic scene where Gene Kelly danced in the rain, singing out of pure joy and twirling on a light post after getting kissed by Debbie Reynolds. It was her favorite scene of all time.

"Everything felt too overwhelming," she responded quietly. "I'm under too much pressure."

"This is your body's way of telling you to slow down." he gave a weak smile. "I know what I'm talking about, I took half of a semester of psychology in college."

"Yeah, that counts." she covered her laugh with a hand. "Did you drop out?"

"Failed so bad that the professor decided he didn't want to deal with me anymore." he shrugged. "Granted, I did date his daughter for a while in high school."

"Are you serious?"

"No, but that's what I'd like to think." Adrien chuckled. "Makes me feel better about myself."

"Mhm, of course."

"Writer's egos are a delicate thing." he grabbed a proper blanket and draped it across his chest like a toga. "Fashion!"

"Oh my God," she laughed feebly. "That's runway worthy!"

When a commercial blinked across the screen, he ventured back to her freezer. "I hope you don't mind if I raid your fridge."

"Go ahead." she shrugged. "Mind grabbing me a pint of dark chocolate cherry ice cream and the biggest spoon you can find while you're at it?"

He struggled to find the correct drawer through all the different amenities spread across the expansive space until Marinette had to physically point to which one.

"Is this how a renowned fashion designer spends her evenings?"

"Oh no, usually I'm already halfway through a white wine bottle by now."

"Good thing ice cream goes with wine perfectly." he did not bother grabbing glasses, the trouble more than what it was worth.

Taking turns sharing a swig from the wine bottle, they didn't even realize as the space between them on the couch lessened as the movie progressed.

"I feel like I'm that blonde girl." he said through a mouth of ice cream. "Whiny with an annoying voice. I just _can't_ seem to stop talking!"

Marinette squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "That's actually good since you are an author."

"I suppose you're right." his sweet smile almost made Marinette faint at the sight. "Thanks again. For last night, I mean."

Their attention was not on the dancing and singing going on in the movie anymore.

"That's what friends do. They take care of each other." she gestured to herself. "Exhibit A."

"We're good at that."

"To fucking up and fixing it!" she rose the empty bottle in the air. "Ah, damn."

"I think we drank it all."

"I saw this ice cream at the store that had alcohol in it and almost bought it. Damn my hesitance!"

"I bought one!"

"You're so lucky!" she whined. "If only we could trade lives."

He shook his head fervently. "No, no. You don't want my life. It's been absolute _hell_."

"Do you not want glitz and glamour and a big apartment? Do you not want to have your parents both die when you were attending college in a different country? Do you not want three failed relationships in the past six years?"

She knew she was revealing too much. Alcohol had tendency to strip her of her filter, poking and prodding at emotions that threatened to surface but never quite did while in the public eye. Adrien was suddenly feeling very bold and fell across Marinette, resting his head in her lap.

"We have not known each other for very long, but I want to be the person who wont judge you if you need to let it out. To be there if you feel like you are going to burst." he sighed contently as her hands moved through his hair. "You don't have to be afraid to hold it back in front of me."

Maybe it was the wine taking over all of her senses but she held Adrien's face in her hands and watched as a tear fell down onto his cheek. They were hers, steadily falling faster and faster.

"You're not just saying that to get into my pants?"

He shook his head. "Has this happened to you before?"

She sighed. "Many."

"I am being one hundred percent genuine, Dupain-Cheng," he heard the movie credits rolling. "Your personal confidant."

"That just sounds like a sexual escort."

"You just _love_ to ruin a heartfelt moment, don't you?" he brightened upon seeing her once tearful eyes glisten with a happier emotion.

"It's what I do best." she thumbed away the tears staining her cheeks. "That and essentially working myself to death."

He guided her hands back to his hair, letting her play with it as another movie started up. Tomorrow they would wake up with hangovers, but in the best possible way. Alcohol loosened up someone, like a book being opened for the first time.

After neglecting it, the pages were finally being read.

* * *

Adrien woke up a couple of hours later sprawled out on the nice velvet carpet, the television sporadically making loud noises as there was a fight between a presumed couple. There was always a big fight just when things were going good in a romance movie.

He rubbed the sleep out his eyes and checked his messages to see that his publicist was indeed very mad. Except, he was on vacation somewhere tropical and south of the equator with his husband. The picture was smug as he held up a middle finger and a glass of sparkling champagne. Plenty of times did Adrien state that his publicist's husband was nicer than him.

He did not deny.

"What?" Marinette came to just as groggy as he felt. "What day is it?"

"October 22nd, 2038. The world is in chaos, another war teetering on the brink of the somewhat mundane peace. Every country pitted against each other, no one is safe."

"Is that some kind of fantasy for you?"

He thought it over. "Every national leader will be a dog."

"Amen." Marinette stretched her arms above her head. "Oh, shit."

"What?"

"I was supposed to have a meeting at eight." she checked her watch. It was ten a.m. by that point, the sky an unnatural shade of grey as rain threatened to fall.

"Call in sick."

"Marinette _fucking_ Dupain-Cheng does not _do_ sick." she ran around the apartment in a struggle to get ready.

As she pulled on her hosiery and black heels in the bedroom, Adrien settled himself back on the couch and flipped through the channels. Marinette emerged against placing two giant diamonds in her ears.

"Aren't you lucky you don't have to go in to work?" she stuck her tongue out. "Lucky ass."

"This is my world, everyone else is just living in it." Adrien settled on a cartoon. "Can I leave whenever?"

Marinette shook her head. "Out by noon at least. I don't want you to steal all my food when I'm out."

"That's what Alya does, isn't it?"

She gave in with a heavy exhale. "Unfortunately so."

"I'll just get out of your hair." he slipped back on his shoes. "I really need a shower."

"My shower has a setting where you can have a spotlight on you and even mood lighting." she made him zip up the back of her dress.

"Are you insinuating something?"

She whipped her head back around as her eyes widened. "Is this how you flirt with all the women you meet?"

"Yes!" he clapped his hands together. "Should I adjust my methods?"

Marinette smiled. "I'd say so."

"That move was _super_ effective!" he mocked the best Pokémon impression he could manage while nursing an awful hangover.

"No, it _really_ wasn't!" she replied with the same amount of gall. "Alright, get out of my apartment before I kick you out myself."

"Can you?"

She shoved him out, not forcefully, but just enough so that he could move out of her overly glamorous apartment.

"A kiss goodbye? Not even on the cheek?" he teased.

She rolled her eyes. "Maybe next time if you behave."

"Deal!"

Something deep inside Marinette's chest hurt to see him go. There was something there, flickering and burning.

She didn't know what to feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot how much I love this chapter and how much of a toothache it gives me to read it. Their communication, comfort, their need for physical touch and reassurances. Oh man, I love their dynamic with my whole heart. Alright, goodnight. Don't forget about my Lonely Hearts Club and how I'm bringing snacks. 
> 
> Stay safe and till next time!


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Marinette and Adrien bonding, plus Alya barging in and totally not shipping them. (Just kidding, she totally does)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Valentine's Day and I'm eating ice cream, editing and watching The Princess Bride. Yes, my life is complete now.

Marinette sat in an oversized tub with gold claw feet, running her fingertips along the bubbles that threatened to spill over the side. She even lit candles to burn their alluring scent all around the bathroom, the window slightly smudged to prevent any peepers. It leaned towards the Eiffel Tower, giving her the perfect opportunity to let her mind wander. She had long forgotten about how much time had passed since she sank her aching feet into the bath; running around in too tall heels for extended shifts all day was never ideal for anybody.

The tub was too big to be bathing in alone, on most nights when the loneliness started to slowly creep in. Sliding further underneath the lukewarm water and burst of bubbles, she made sure to cover her entire face.

Thinking about Adrien naked was doing terrible things to her mind.

His smooth skin and chiseled chest. His broad shoulders and a sharp jawline when he had dared to strip off his shirt in a drunken escapade.

She really had to stop drinking so much since he was already intoxicating enough.

Before they had crossed the line into friends instead of being strangers, she had religiously followed his career as an avid fan. Several of his books still sat on her mostly full shelves in the living room. She used to curl up with one and thumb through one on a particularly intense day packed the brim with meetings and deadlines.

Emerging from the trenches of the tub, she groaned into her soapy hands.

Knocking eventually pulled her out of her Adrien-induced stupor, wading through the water that had long gone cold before wrapping a towel around her body. Alya was the only one who knocked incessantly at her door that late. Reporters and fans alike did not dare to interrupt her after eight or nine at night.

Her hair dripping from the bathwater, she slipped on her glasses when her contacts had long been discarded for the day. She mumbled something to herself alogn with a string of curses aas she made her way across her apartment and to the door. Surprisingly, Adrien Agreste stood in the doorway, his hands in his pockets as he laughed sheepishly.

Marinette slammed the door as fast as she could, screaming far too loud for this time of night. She leaned against the door panting as her traitorous heart beat uncontrollably in her chest.

"I left my charger here." he knocked again. "Marinette, your door isn't soundproof. I can hear you going into an asthma attack from out here."

Sprinting to her bedroom, she pulled on a robe as fast as she could and opened the door again with her hair in a terrible bun but at least it wasn't dripping all over the floor. Her glasses were also left in her bedroom, face bare and flushing a bright shade of pink.

"Why didn't you text me before coming over?"

He held out his dead phone. "I needed my phone charger."

Practically pulling him from the sleeves of his winter coat, he let the door slam shut behind him. He had never seen Marinette like this. In a domestic setting.

Even when they both blacked out drunk the night prior, she held herself up like royalty. Or so she thought. 

"I didn't see anything!"

She draped a blanket around her scantily dressed body just in case, muttering something underneath her breath.

"Were you expecting company?" he look too damn smug.

"Of course not!"

He laughed quietly, grabbing the charger still sloppily plugged into the wall. He curled the cable around itself, tucking it into his pocket.

"I'm sorry for impeding on your spa day." he said weakly. "I can't spend anymore money on buying another one. Budget trip for the win!"

"It's fine," she sighed. "I was about to get out anyway."

"Did you assume I was Alya?"

"Yes. That little minx is always trying to steal my food. Another thing you two have in common!"

"If I were her, I'd raid your closet. Black pumps? Give them all to me." he stood on his toes and mimicked a runway walk.

She laughed behind her hand. "You have surprisingly good form."

"I could rock a pair of high-heels if I wanted to, Dupain-Cheng. You also seem to forget that my father was famous in the fashion industry not too long ago." Adrien winced. "Then there was that whole scandal and it pretty much fizzled."

"That was partially the model's fault too." Marinette brushed it off. "I don't interact much with the models other than backstage for a last minute good luck or an outfit fix."

Adrien was interested now. "Ever dated a model before?"

Her face visibly reddened, even more so than before. "Of course not!"

"They are always traveling and attending shoots." he reasoned. "Ah, the life of the rich and famous."

"How would you know?" she teased, Adrien sticking his tongue out at her in response. "If it came down to it, I'd date in my field if I felt like there was a chance for something more than just a professional relationship."

"Would you get in trouble?"

"I hope not."

"So you're hopeful?"

"Shut up!"

Adrien rested an elbow against the countertop, waiting for Marinette to make the next move. She leaned over from the other side, their faces close yet miles apart. All he could do was get lost in those incandescently blue eyes while she stared back, searching aimlessly for something.

When someone nearly knocked down her door, fist pounding as if they were dying out in the hall, Marinette excused herself to see Alya looking smug at her.

"It's movie night and you have a guy over?" she first caught a glimpse of Adrien in the kitchen and then took in the robe and blanket loosely wrapped around Marinette's body. "Oh, is this a bad time? I'll come back later."

Marinette flailed her hands and arms frantically, trying to come up with a valid reason. Adrien lingered around her kitchen and living room, taking in the small details. Frames with dates lined the walls sporadically, most of her most iconic designs and looks from photo shoots.

One in particular captured his attention the most, smiling warmly to himself as he took in every little detail. She was posed along a wooden chair, draped in what looked like a trench coat and unlaced combat boots. Her dark hair was smooth with a gentle shine to it underneath the studio lights, lips pursed and— _fuck, he was already so far gone._

Meanwhile, Marinette stammered and fell all over herself at the prospect of something going on with him just a few feet away with Alya. Sweet Alya who knew that Adrien was in too deep.

She somehow saw past his adamant walls, raising a brow once they caught each other's eyes. She pitied him and decided not to bring it up. Alya left shortly afterwards, stealing a bottle of wine and a pint or two of ice cream for 'personal reasons' which left a heavy silence between the two of them.

Shuffling on her bare feet, Marinette came beside Adrien. "My first shoot as a public designer."

"You look—" the words were already slipping off of his tongue. "Beautiful."

Her freckle-kissed face simply melted at the comment. "Thank you."

"When _Miraculous_ was published, more were interested in the author than the actual book. I was asked to wear somewhat of a _PlayBoy_ outfit while holding the book very obviously in the shot. Unfortunately, it was never published and sits in my archives waiting."

Marinette poked him in the ribs. "Show me."

"Hah."

She pouted. " _Show_ me."

"No."

"I know they are somewhere on your phone, Agreste!" she went to reach for it but was instead held back after Adrien stood on his tiptoes and waved it high above her. "Damn my adorably short height."

"If I show you one photo would you grab dessert with me later?" he anxiously waited for her to react.

She considered it, thinking about how the pros outweighed the cons. "Deal. You are paying."

They waited for the phone to flash back to life after being dead for so many hours and subconsciously squished onto the soft couch in her living room, hovered over the little glowing device. He found a picture and showed her, only making her laughter double until she was clutching at her sides, fighting for breath.

"You look like a little boy begging his mum for a toy on Christmas!" she took his phone from him and basked in the glory that was the cursed image.

She will admit that he did have some seriously killer abs.

He broke her thought process however, taking back the phone. "How about that dessert you promised me?"

Half an hour later she got dressed into something more appropriate. They remained shoulder-to-shoulder as they walked through the glowing streets of Paris, Adrien catching glimpses of how the golden Holiday lights strung across the outside of buildings gave Marinette an ethereal glow.

They ended up splitting a ice cream-cookie hybrid, sharing a spoon after Adrien knocked his onto the ground as they walked around a corner of the beautiful city.

As they stopped to rest at a bench not too far from Marinette's apartment, Adrien had the sudden urge to write again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was this a filler chapter? Possibly. Depends on how you look at it. Also, I wrote this a year ago and as I'm re-reading it I've come to the conclusion that I used to hate editing. (Still do, just a little less)
> 
> Stay safe and till next time!


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette go on a “friend date” but we all know what that’s code for

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Highkey this is my favorite chapter. Also, I told y'all Victor is Adrien's publicist/editor dammit >:( don't be surprised if he and my baby yuuri shows up from time to time i have a sweet spot for them

Adrien had lost track of time when a pounding at his door interrupted his typing. Papers scattered around the room were filled to the brim with extra notes. Meanwhile, his computer burned from endless sessions of writing until it died and charging it as fast a possible to do it all over again.

Standing in front of his door was none other than his publicist, scoffing at the state of his makeshift home.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Victor Nikolaiovich!" Adrien began making tea. "What do I owe the pleasure of your company to me, a mere mortal?"

Viktor sighed as he found a spot in the sloppy kitchen to sit and chat. "I was visiting after my mini-vacation and wanted to check up on you. Haven't seen you in any major headlines recently."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

Viktor ran a hand through his silver hair. "Yes, which is why I was overly concerned."

Adrien clutched at his chest dramatically. "I'm hurt!"

"I can tell you finally began writing a new project." he gestured toward the stack of papers and half-opened computer lid. "Looks like bringing you to Paris was actually a good thing."

Adrien saw Marinette's dazzling smile upon hearing Victor's words. She was at least one good thing going on in his life right now.

"You could say I found my inspiration."

He looked pleasantly surprised. "Good, good. My husband wanted me to give you something before we head back to the States."

Adrien was handed a check, the amount of numbers on it messily scrawled a little shocking. He could only stutter and freeze at the gesture.

"His idea, not mine. We missed your birthday a little while ago after I was a bit upset about your serious lack of producing anything." Victor took a cup from Adrien and nearly chugged it down in one go. "Next time add a bit of jam to it, will you Adrienka?"

* * *

Adrien revisited the check many times throughout the day in-between writing for the sake of his aching hand. Victor sometimes made his life suck ass, but more often than not saw Adrien as his own son. His husband was more affectionate, even sending him a Christmas card and frequent gifts throughout the year for various holidays.

The parties Victor and his husband threw were nothing short of extravagant. They were always fun and acted as a sort of release if Adrien was being honest. When he was just starting out his career with limited success, he even moved in with the two for a while in his late teens and early twenties in New York. Adrien still missed their large, curly-furred poodle that somehow always knocked him over with slobbery kisses and affection.

 **Marinette** : _Dinner tonight?_

Adrien texted back as fast as he could manage, almost dropping his cup into the sink.

 **Adrien** : _How about lunch instead?_

 **Marinette** : _I have a shoot all day today. We can order takeout tonight and binge that shitty show you like._

 **Adrien** : _I'm offended! Naruto is a godsend!_

 **Marinette** : _Sure it is._

Adrien smiled at the phone, his hands going fuzzy as his head cleared. They had fallen into the rhythm of texting almost every day, agreeing that the silence of their own apartments was too much to spend an evening alone. Alya and Nino joined them most nights, although they mostly just made out during whatever scene they could. Sometimes it was during the romance declaration, but more often than not it was during a horror jump scare scene.

Marinette and Adrien always sat two people away from each other just in case.

On his way out the door he patted the little kitty figurine Marinette bought him, letting him watch over the sparse room. That cat was the watch guard when he was gone--usually at Marinette's apartment.

He deposited the check to a fairly nice woman at the bank, shaking his hand and asking for an autograph. First thing he did was buy proper groceries and basic necessities such as toilet paper, cleaner, soap and conditioner, rags and basically anything else that caught his eye and considered him as a full-fledged 'adult'.

Nino and him met up for coffee later that evening, discussing trivial things as Adrien kept glancing at his watch for the time. He would not consider this a date with Marinette, no. They had no labels which often lead to mixed signals and confusing words whispered when one thought the other was drunk or already passed out.

Marinette wore a deep blue dress with Adrien's jacket draped loosely across her shoulders as they walked through the streets of Paris, hands not daring to close the gap between the two. She led the way, past city-goers dressed up in their finest clothing as they neared the beloved Eiffel Tower. Dinner would be served atop one of the many floors out looking the gorgeous expanse of the city he called home.

Marinette slipped on her thick sunglasses acting as shield for her well known status as a celebrity, allowing Adrien to guide her away from any prying eyes. Neither of them had noticed that they had an arm slung around the other casually--just enough to hold some sort of warm embrace.

Marinette was hesitant as they scaled the long staircases, feet aching as they came to their floor. They settled in by one of the tables closest to the wide windows, golden lights illuminating the otherwise dark and speckled sky. Her eyes lit up, acting as if she were a little kid upon settling on the view.

When she got too close, she backed away and nearly ran into Adrien behind her.

"Love the view but is scared of heights?" he chuckled.

"It is a very reasonable fear!" she protested.

They both loosened up once the wine got flowing, delicious food Marinette insisted on paying for since Adrien's own credit card wept at the overall price on the check.

When the surprisingly not as cold breeze coaxed them out onto the more open space of the Eiffel Tower, Marinette kept her grip on his arm tight. He assured her that they were safe and nothing was going to happen, but she kept shaking her head.

"If I fell you would stand there and laugh." she hissed, picturing it all too well. "Admit it, Agreste."

"Well, sure. Only after I valiantly save you like the superhero I am."

"Not with those arms."

He could not even form a proper retort when she broke into laughter, cheeks blooming bright pink as she clutched onto her sides for dear life. Something inside Adrien's chest constricted at the sight.

**Nino:** _I'm watching you, Agreste._  
**Nino:** _BTW, this is definitely not Alya._

He snickered, putting his phone away once Marinette returned and practically pounced on him.

"We have one more stop to go to before this night ends." she slid down her sunglasses to reveal her incandescently blue eyes, gazing wide into his.

"It better not be anywhere expensive."

"It's not!" she walked him back to her lavish apartment building to which he then casted her a questioning glance.

"A little forward, but okay."

She rolled her eyes. "Just trust me, Agreste."

_How could he not?_

Past rooms decorated with only the most glamorous throw pillows placed across couches nice enough to sink into an endless sleep, Adrien stumbled upon a door labeled something he thought he'd never had seen that night.

**POOL.**

"What—"

Leading him by the arm, they entered the chlorine smelling room, empty save for one or two people still lingering about. They came to a bubbling hot tub located outside the actual pool room, where lights strung from the overhanging canopy.

"I think this room just made fun of me for being broke." Adrien whistled slowly at the sight that also included a handsome view of the twinkling city once more.

Marinette set down toe towels along the edge of the hot tub, sliding off her heels to sink her toes into the hot water. Adrien rolled up his pant legs and did the same.

"I come up here whenever I'm stressed or just need a distraction." she rested her head against his shoulder, looking out into the city below them. "You looked like you could use a distraction."

"You come here often?"

She hummed a reply. "As much as it takes."

"Would you mind if I came up here more often?" he asked, slipping off his shoes and socks to dip his feet into the boiling hot water.

"Maybe if you asked really, really nicely."

Something playful sparkled in her eyes, warming Adrien's chest. It was almost too easy to let himself be swept away by her alluring charm and unsubtle suggestions. He knew that he had fallen prey to the woman known as Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

"May I please be allowed to break into your overpriced apartment building in order to forget my problems thanks to the help of dips in the hot tub and miraculous views?" he tried to make himself appear as innocent as possible.

"Wow, you saying please? I didn't think that would actually work." she teased, nudging him in the shoulder.

"Do you know me at all?"

Her eyes darted to his lips. "Not fully, but I'm open to finding out more."

Dear God, if he ever survived that night please make sure that he actually publishes his book and to buy a new suit to replace the one he regretted ever wearing out again.

"Well, Dupain-Cheng, I'll let you in on a little secret." he leaned in closer.

Marinette quirked a brow. "Oh really? Does it have to involve that dreadful suit you're wearing? Or is it how beautiful you find me tonight?"

"Okay, damn, can you read minds or something?"

"How else do you think I made it this far in the fashion world?"

It was almost too easy to lean in just a bit closer. Anymore so and their lips would touch. But then, the both of them pulled away. They were both blushing a bright pink, knowing how close they were to actually kissing one another. But that night, they settled for their hands hesitatingly fit together. With Marinette pressed up against him, Adrien felt his heart beat faster than ever before. Her soft voice recalling a story from work today left his head feeling light and at ease. If he could spend all of his evenings like this, he would not mind at all. Not one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There actually is a restaurant in the Eiffel Tower and the one Marinette and Adrien go to is called Le Jules Verne. It's located on the second floor of the tower and is actually quite lovely. Definitely on the bucket list if I ever save up enough money to actually go to France some day.
> 
> Stay safe and till next time!


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette go to Zermatt for a work trip and their relationship heats up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone take me to Switzerland please and thank you

It's late when Adrien writes another chapter of his slow-going novel. Marinette lay passed out across her bed with the too-white sheets and a half empty bottle of wine resting on the nightstand. Adrien sat beside her, his glass long empty by now. Every now and then his hand would wander to gently run through the tips of her dark hair, untangling strands as she let out a small and content sigh. Over the past couple of weeks the two had grown exponentially closer, daring to close the space between them, but too scared to ask out loud what they meant towards one another.

Adrien tried not to dwell on that for too long, knowing that he would spend far too many night up late dreaming about what his life would be like if had only summoned up the courage and told her how much he wanted her to stay in his life.

Marinette stirred. "You still awake?"

His hand retracted from beside her. "Work."

"Do you have to leave soon?" it almost sounded like it was more of a desperate plea for him to stay.

They had slowly fallen into a routine of accompanying the other until morning if they did sleep over, though they didn't do anything except sleep, taking turns deciding on what do for dinner and watching movies until they passed out on the couch.

"No," he added a bit of dialogue to the paragraph he had been working on for a while. "not yet."

 **Unnamed Work** _— page 134_

_Was he in love? No, he would never admit to it out loud. Perhaps he was stuck somewhere in the midst of the fall and the beginning. Love came in two forms; the idea and the feeling. If love could be so definable, he would pore over every fine print until he fully understood the concept._

_For now, he was left with the soft murmuring of a lover's call._

Marinette ended up curled into his side hours later, aurora light falling across her face as Adrien's hand entwined with hers. She awoke slowly, fingers never hesitating as she closed that gap.

"I have to leave for a business trip tomorrow morning." her voice was soft. "Zermatt, Switzerland. An annual trip, but taxing nonetheless. I would ask Alya to go with me, but she has to plan her wedding."

Adrien's heart skipped at the implication. "You want me to go with you?"

She traced small circles onto his skin with her other hand. "Only if you want to. Maybe you could get some inspiration."

 _I_ ’ _ve_ _already found my inspiration._

"I would love to go with you."

* * *

Morning came before the sun even rose, hours after their conversation the day prior. Clutching at suitcase handles that bobbed at their heels as they walked through the airport, Adrien staggered. Marinette had gone for her typical disguise but wore a heavy coat and a scarf around her neck. Her expression remained unreadable as they moved through the security checks.

They would not fly for too long since there was no direct connection to Zermatt being available. Then they would endure an excruciatingly long couple of bus rides to get to the hotel. Marinette remained passive throughout the situation, seeing travel as being the norm by now. They waited around in the lounge area, Marinette tucking her knees up to her chest and eating a parfait she bought after running late that morning. She was getting better at her timing, but there was always occasions when she let time get away from her. Her excuse for being late ran along the lines of how she had to feed her dog when she didn't even have a dog to begin with. Adrien didn't bring it up, but laughed to himself whenever he thought she wasn't looking.

When they boarded the plane, she stayed close to him. Resting her head on his shoulder while he watched the sky slowly move and change outside. The clouds were nothing but feather strokes of a paint brush across an indigo sky. Deciding to make note of that in his journal he kept strictly for novel-related commentary, Marinette grumbled at the sudden movement.

"Do you randomly just get ideas for your books?" she asked.

"Most of the time, yes. Usually it happens when I'm about to fall asleep and I end up staying up half the night, making sure I get everything down." he flipped through the pages covered in sloppy writing as proof. "Isn't that how you come up with your designs?"

She hummed a reply. "We're more alike than I thought, Agreste."

"So we are."

* * *

As it turned out, a full day of travel wore the both of them out. Adjusting to the jet lag and ordering room service around midnight was just as miserable as it sounded. They weren't too concerned about the price, too tired to complain. Indulging in what had to be the best greasy midnight food while watching some Swiss drama on TV, they parted to get ready for bed.

Adrien returned from his shower to see Marinette pushing their two single beds together.

"I needed the space." she opened up her arms for him, allowing him to nestle against her side.

"Thank you." he said just loud enough for her to hear. "Thank you for letting me stay here with you."

Her hands gently slipped through his hair. "I should've made you blow dry your hair first."

"But then it makes my hair all poofy."

She laughed quietly. "I happen to like your poofy hair."

"I guess I should listen to you since you are a fashion icon after all."

"And don't you forget it."

His job required him to piece together words and sentences yet whenever he was around Marinette, he was at a loss with them.

Leaving the TV on in the background, they drifted off, bodies pressed up against each other. Adrien had not the slightest idea of what to call this emotion other than contentment.

* * *

He began writing another chapter over breakfast out looking the city skyline, just now waking up as he sipped on scalding coffee sweetened by an ungodly amount of sugar and cream. When he woke up Marinette was no where to be found, stating late last night that she had work early the next morning. He supposed it was good for her to be out of the room while he worked since she proved to be a hefty distraction to him. He was just starting to write another chapter when his phone dinged.

 **Marinette** **:** _Be my distraction_ _?_

 **Adrien:** _iMessage games? I am a god at pool and cup pong, mind you._

 **Marinette:** _Send me a pic of your latest works. Pretty please? (*'_ _∇_ ｀ _*)_

 **Adrien:** _-attached image-_

 **Marinette:** _Being up here_ _really is_ _doing you good, huh?_

He almost typed something out before deleting it and trying again. _Being with you is doing me good._

 **Adrien:** ╰ _(*'_ ︶ _'*)_ ╯

* * *

Marinette found Adrien snuggled up by the couch in the hotel lobby, nursing a mug of either tea or hot chocolate. He was teaching two kids how to play the little chess table sitting next to the fireplace. Calling out to them with laughter, computer long since abandoned.

Marinette snapped a picture, captioned it and uploaded it to her personal Instagram.

 **[photo]**  
73 likes  
 **marinette-dcheng:** _switzerland is treating us too good! #helpthisboyout #skiingwontbepretty_

 **a-cesaire:** _he stole my ticket!_  
 **nino-lahiffe:** _is that my sweater???_

Sitting beside him on the comfy couch, wrapped in a faux fur blanket to share between the two of them, Marinette smiled. Adrien feigned shock when one of the two boys exclaimed another victory, the other threatening to flip the table.

"Who knew you'd be so good with kids?" she snickered.

"I used to babysit my neighbor's daughter all the time back in New York. She and I baked so many cookies and watched so many Barbie movies that I swear I became her older twin."

Marinette pressed closer to his side. "Do you miss it?"

"New York?" he considered it for a while. "Sometimes. Although, if I had the the chance, I wouldn't stay there."

He decided to be bold, leaning down and kissing her forehead. It lingered far longer than a chaste kiss normally would. Marinette felt her face heat, but she didn't mind.

"I like where I am now." he sounded genuine. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

After they fell asleep wrapped up in each other's body heat, Marinette declared that they go skiing. Adrien popped his head out the bathroom door back in their hotel room, half-dressed with his toothbrush sticking out of his mouth.

"What about work?"

Marinette waved him off. "My meeting is not till eight tonight. Let's spend the day on the slopes and then after my meeting we can soak in the hot tub, _oui_?"

Adrien was heavily tempted. "I must warn you, I am a _god_ on skis."

* * *

Evidently, he was not.

Wrapped up in layers upon layers of jackets and snow pants, Adrien slipped down a baby hill from the lodge while trying to make his way over towards the slopes. He looked like a baby deer just learning how to walk but refused any help. He was determined that he could do it on his own, although his confidence was shattered when he saw Marinette ski as if she were born to do it.

Marinette then laughed as he continued falling over and over again, resembling that of a big marshmallow when he was wrapped up in his heavy coat and snow pants.

Adrien did not find it funny.

Looping an arm around his, Marinette gracefully led him over towards the lifts and snuggled up next to him as they elevated. She did not look down out of her fear of heights, instead clutching onto him like a lifeline.

"Skiing fanatic but can't handle the heights?"

She stuck out her tongue. "Must you taunt me about that every time?"

He grinned. "Always."

Somewhere along the ride up, a fan snapped a picture of the two of them huddled up together and reposted it to nearly every social media available with the same caption: _Fashion Designer Marinette Dupain-Cheng spotted cozying up to Author Adrien Agreste in Zalmatt._

Adrien's publicist was only slightly livid about the situation, but significantly went quiet after grumbling how they actually looked cute together. Victor had a soft spot for love.

Their first ride down the mountain led to Adrien tripping over his own skis and a face full of snow. Marinette helped him down the rest of the way, never letting her bright smile leave her face for even a second. The second time around was much easier, involving only minimal fall damage. When they grew too cold, they headed back.

* * *

After they arrived back at the hotel and grabbed a bite to eat at the hotel restaurant, Adrien watched the clock for nine when Marinette's meeting would supposedly end. He was already dressed for the hot tub, scrolling through several articles written about the two of them. Some even included a definitive timeline of their so-called "relationship "despite them never even discussing the possibilities of them being in one just yet.

They were hanging out like a couple, sharing a room and a bed like a couple, going out to eat and on luxurious vacations like a couple. Yet the fact remained that they put no label on it and would probably keep it that way for the foreseeable future.

Marinette arrived back at the room shortly after, practically pushing him out the door after getting dressed. They thankfully arrived when no one else was around, all tucked inside to avoid the nighttime chill. The tub sat outside, little fairy lights hanging up reminding him of the one back at Marinette's apartment.

 **(A/N) Inspired by the steamy hot tub scene in To All The Boys I've Loved Before because that scene always gets me.**  
 **╰** **(*'** **︶** **'*)** **╯**

When they sank into the hot water, the snowy air no longer seeping into their bones, Marinette made the first move. Slowly she shifted from where she sat at the other side of the tub, legs wrapping around either side of him to straddle him. Adrien could barely breathe as she leaned forward, arms loosely hanging around his neck. Her lips met his and time stopped. It did not dare move or slow down. It halted for just this very moment when Marinette kissed him.

He kissed back, deepening the kiss as he felt comfortable enough to press his hands into the small of her back.

God, how much did he dream of this moment?

He did not count the minutes when the kiss broke for the two of them to gasp for air, lips swollen and slightly pink. The amount of fondness tracing along in her blue eyes was enough to make Adrien melt right then and there.

"Is this really happening?" he was breathless.

"This is really happening." she confirmed.

"Good." he kissed her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette kiss!! At last!! Seriously, after all that built up tension I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner. I mean, they have cute lil' sleepovers and everything. Also, Marinette is a hella good cook and Adrien is just trying his best when he is in charge of cooking dinner. That's my headcanon thank you v much
> 
> Stay safe and till next time!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette head home to Paris from Zermatt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I wrote this I wasn't exactly in the best headspace so it's mostly angst intermingled with witty banter between our favorite couple. Adrien is an unreliable narrator in a sense and has been struggling to come to terms with how he's feeling. This chapter gets pretty deep, but it gets better I promise. Hang in there! It gets better!

Adrien wished they didn't have to leave Switzerland. Not yet, anyway. They had just begun to explore their feelings for one another when they were due home to Paris. Two days ago something had shifted between them. Good or bad, Adrien didn't know. But he liked how it was going so far. After their little hot tub stunt they had broke apart embarrassed and could barely get a word out to one another. Afterwards they headed back to their respective rooms to shower. Adrien made sure to turn his on the coldest setting.

The past couple of nights he had made it a habit of staying in Marinette's hotel room, leaving his suitcase in her room while his clothes littered the floor. He hated packing, but he would really rather not leave behind his favorite sweater simply because of his disliking of folding.

"Adrien," Marinette popped her head out of the bathroom. "Can you hand me my scarf?"

He held up two. "Which one?"

"The cashmere one."

He tossed it to her before she darted back into the bathroom. She was taking longer than usual, which was to be expected since they had to leave for the airport soon. They both knew that the paparazzi would be up their asses, hungry for even a scrap of more information regarding their alleged relationship. Ever since word got out about the two of them, word had spread like wildfire. Adrien felt uneasy at the fact that random strangers thought they knew more about his relationship than he did. If he could even call it that.

Marinette stepped out of the bathroom wearing a dark dress paired with an expensive looking shawl, a scarf, wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses. "C'est magnifique, non?"

"Oui." Adrien smiled. "C'est bonne."

"Good." she moved around the room, checking for any other clothes she might have left behind. "Your shirt is over here."

"My favorite one! Thank you." he took it from her and shoved it into his suitcase before sealing it up. "It would be a tragedy if I lost it."

"I wouldn't mind." she mused out loud.

"Hey!"

She smiled behind a gloved hand. "I'm sorry, I absolutely adore your hot pink shirt with the yellow stripes down the sides."

"It's too early for sarcasm, Dupain-Cheng." he stuck his tongue out at her.

"Unfortunately it's what I do best, Agreste." she winked.

* * *

They arrived at the Geneva Airport after a quick train ride, Marinette reapplying her lipstick as Adrien put the book that he was reading back in his carry-on bag. As expected, as soon as they arrived they were swarmed with an onslaught of press and fans alike.

"Can you confirm the rumors regarding you and Adrien Agreste's relationship?"

"How long have you two been together?"

"Will your relationship interfere with your upcoming fashion show?"

"Is this all a publicity stunt?"

Marinette waved each and every one of them off much to Adrien's amazement. She turned away and didn't stop to answer any questions, only covering her face with a hand and swiftly walking away in the other direction. He had never seen her act like that before: a fake persona fitting on as if it were a mask concealing her true personality.

Hiding herself away from the world's prying eyes.

This one was void of any emotion other than glamour and adoration. Every movement was calculated as they surged through crowds of fans and photographers. Adrien did not enjoy the limelight quite as much as she did, keeping his face covered by his jacket and a thick, wool hat. He had a microphone shoved in his face declaring his official statement regarding his and Marinette's relationship. He mumbled a reply about how he was not going to comment before discussing it with Marinette. They did not seem satisfied, yet left them to their own devices once they boarded the plane and settled into first class.

While she ordered two glasses of champagne, Adrien was about to say that he was not in the mood before she downed both of them in one go. Leaning back in her seat, she removed her heavy sunglasses and rammed her palms into her eyes before sighing heavily.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, buckling his seat belt.

"I have to keep up a public image." she said it so casually as if there was nothing wrong with it.

"A fake one?"

She gritted her teeth together, turning the other way so she could watch the plane take off out the foggy window. Adrien did not wish to force her into talking about anything that she didn't want to. He wanted to confront her and ask why she acted like that in the public eye, but he knew they lived separate lives. His spotlight of fame was nothing in comparison to hers. He sold a couple hundred thousand books while she made millions off of her designs and led internationally renowned models down catwalks in glamorous countries. He couldn't even imagine what it would be like to live like her or to even spend a day wearing her designer shoes. 

But he wouldn't interrogate her. He wouldn't berate her for her decisions because he got enough of that shit from his other relationships.

* * *

Tense was not even close to being the right word when they both counted the hours as they droned on. Marinette eventually fell asleep, curling up in her seat with a plane regulation blanket draped over her. He could tell that she was exhausted beyond belief these last couple days, and if he pushed her anymore it would be like adding fire to the already steadily burning flame.

They returned to the Parisian airport sleepy and annoyed when their layover flight was delayed by several hours. It was almost dawn by that point, the sun threatening to rise despite their protests. Thankfully the place was relatively empty, rewarding them with much-needed privacy. Alya surprisingly waited for them at the gate, wheel-barrowing into her best friend upon seeing her face.

She wore her pajamas and a fuzzy robe, but showed up nonetheless. Nino gave a quick embrace to Adrien before grabbing a coffee for him and a tea for Marinette.

Pulling him to the side, he pulled on the sleeve of Nino's coat. "Is she always like that around the public eye?"

Nino gave a sad, small smile. "She's afraid they will turn her away if she shows who she truly is to them."

Turn her away?

He glanced back to see her and Alya playing the game where you try to smack the other person's hands before they pull away. They erupted into a fit of laughter, collapsing on each other once they were both losing.

Adrien felt his heart twinge. "Let's get some sleep. God knows we need it."

* * *

Marinette fell onto her bed and was out like a lamp upon returning to her beloved bed. Zermatt had nice beds, but they were nothing like the one she spent a majority of her first paycheck on, making sure that her mattress and pillows had that signature "sink factor" as she called it. Holding a pillow close to her chest as if it were another person, she raised her head as Adrien started for the exit.

"Where are you going?"

He stood still. "Back to my apartment."

"Stay with me." she hated the way her voice trembled. "Please. I don't want to be alone."

He let go of his suitcase, falling down beside her as she cradled his head to her chest. He counted her heartbeat until it gradually began to slow. Billowing curtains kept the golden sunlight of early morning from pouring in, pooling only in the very top corners of the cream-colored room. He bit back his words, holding them close to his heart as she fell asleep beside him. He knew whatever they had would not last. She would move on to find someone else when she got bored of him, leaving him as he went back to New York to his too-quiet apartment and his dusty bookshelf waiting for more unfinished drafts.

Holding onto this moment until the very end, he felt the tears slowly slide down his face. He made no effort to wipe them away. Vulnerability had never felt so overwhelming until he met Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Marinette who was afraid of revealing too much of herself. Marinette who put on an image only those closest to her could see through.

Breathing in her subtle scent of coconut and peppermint, he felt his body relax. A thousand miles away he left his heart, waiting for someone to meet him where he was. Just a struggling author clinging onto the beauty and inspiration that was the woman holding him.

He closed his eyes, remembering their time upon the ice rink in Zermatt, gliding as their hands intertwined. He reveled in her talent, effortlessly skating backwards and even performing a single jump. Her hands were warm against the winter chill, her smile rivaling the stars they watch every night when they left the curtains open. He remembered the feeling of her resting her head in the crook between his neck and shoulder, watching as the snow piled in sheets upon the Swiss mountains that glistened effortlessly.

He had been so weary about allowing himself to fall for another after his previous partner, shutting himself off from everything and everyone who dared reached out to him. He drank away the past that made him feel numb, savoring the feeling of forgetting that night all together.

But then he met her.

Standing alone in the bar, drinking away her problems just as he.

Was she hurting, too?

Marinette probably did not feel the same way about him as he did her. She had been distracted when they first kissed, mind wandering on everything except him. Adrien felt himself recoil from her touch. Stalking towards the bedroom door without looking back, he grabbed his coat and left.

* * *

Hours later, he awoke to the sound of his phone going off. Victor was calling him nonstop, going off the rails.

"Hello?" he answered sleepily, deleting a portion of the paragraph he had been working on. It became a spam of letters and numbers after he passed out.

"I was worried about you, dammit!" Victor's thick Russian accent was prominent over the phone. "The press is having a field day!"

Adrien googled himself, watching as twenty different articles popped up flashing his face beside Marinette's at the airport. He looked as miserable as he felt.

"Shit."

"What part of laying low did I not make clear?" he was mildly exasperated.

"Some of these articles are claiming that I'm an alcoholic? This one is even saying that I am addicted to drugs and got Dupain-Cheng hooked too."

Victor was shuffling around on the other side of the line. "It's not as if that idea hasn't surfaced before. You _do_ go out and drink constantly and your image _could_ use some improvement."

"Fuck my image!" Adrien exclaimed, biting his tongue as he did so. "I don't know how much more of this shit I can handle."

He couldn't let Marinette take the brunt of his actions and his consequences. He didn't want to bring her anymore pain.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

He would not let himself break down again. Not today when his eyes were still red. Not when the aching in his chest refused to subside.

Victor went quiet. Silence became defeating at one point, making Adrien think that the man hung up before he could hear his breathing settle again.

"I will release a public statement denying any addiction claims. I also suggest dropping contact with Dupain-Cheng. You may be miles away, but the pain in undeniable." Victor typed something on a computer. "I don't want to see you get hurt again, Adrienka."

Victor was there for him after the incident all those years ago. Him and his husband let him stay on their pull-out couch while Adrien lost his apartment. Supported him when he had nowhere else to go. Even he couldn't bring himself to reach out to his estranged father lingering somewhere in Paris, wallowing away after years of scandals had worn his name and career down to nothing but unheard words.

Adrien then did the only thing he felt comfortable doing; the only thing he had a proper feeling for.

 **Unnamed Work** _— page 234_

_His heart yearned for his beloved. To hold her in his waiting arms, to never let her go. Her lingering touch felt like a brand against his skin, the seductress facade pushing him away._

_"Please stay by my side." he would let himself burn until the embers painted his skin_ _red_ _. "I can't do this without you."_

_She did not even spare a glance to his withering form. "I got what I came for."_

_"Cetrine," his legs gave out beneath him, struggling to regain his breath as his words came out in choked sobs. "please."_

_Cetrine—_

"Dammit!" he slammed his computer shut.

He was practically writing his whole life story out on paper, letting the world decipher his and Marinette's relationship as they pleased.

He then stood before his fridge door, hand hovering over the silver handle. He vowed to himself that he would go clean for not only him, but for his daughter thousand of miles away, too.

"I'm sorry," he poured himself a glass of clear alcohol. "I let you down."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, woah, woah. Adrien has a daughter??? Whaaat??? Why yes, yes he does. Give me all the plot twists and angst! Muahahah!
> 
> "A thousand miles away he left his heart, waiting for someone to meet him where he was. Just a struggling author clinging onto the beauty and inspiration that was the woman holding him." (P.S. this is one my favorite line from this chapter ;,,,,) 
> 
> Stay safe and till next time!


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien heads out to New York to see his daughter, leaving Marinette to rethink her and Adrien's tenuous relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm re-reading this and rewriting A LOT of it, I come to realize how depressing it is. I apologize in advance. But, as I said before, this story has quite a bit of angst and longing in it with SOME fluff. I promise there will be a happy ending, though. Don't worry! :O

In the rosy, aurora light of dawn, Adrien lay beside Marinette. She let her normally tightly-bound hair spill past her shoulders, unkempt as it pooled upon the silk pillowcases. She kept him close for a sense of body heat, soothing a far deeper desire of belonging. Adrien left an arm to drape across his eyes, concealing the ceiling he had been left to stare at for the past couple of hours. He had done some rather heated activities with the fashion designer only hours prior, struggling to ignore the pain inside.

Something inside him twisted and hissed, _she doesn't need you, this is all just for comfort._

Weeks ago he had declared silently to himself that he would not engage in any sort of relationship with Marinette which he had kept his promise to. They were not officially an item despite how much his heart wanted them to be. They didn't speak about it at all, and every time he wanted to his throat would close up with no words being able to come out. He also didn't want to drag her more into his hellish life than she already had been. His reputation could very well reflect badly on hers and he would never forgive himself if he were the reason she had to quit designing all together.

Peeling back the too-soft sheets, he checked his laptop for the umpteenth time over the past twenty four hours. He had a flight scheduled for just a little before noon, hoping to see his daughter again.

New York was too far away from Paris.

Marinette stirred half an hour later to the sound of him moving around and making her a cup of steaming black tea. A comfort drink he had found out a while back.

Marinette was unaware that he had a child whatsoever, nor did she know of his plan to jet off halfway across the world. He had meant to break the ice last night before she led them to the bedroom. Unable to resist born out of selfish desire, they sought out each other for even a semblance of comfort, no matter the consequences. Somewhere during it all he had realized that he was deeply and irrevocably in love with her, but was unable to voice his true feelings to her. There was always a thorn nagging him in the chest, reciting over and over how she would reject him and was just using him. He so badly did not want that to be true. But, if it was, he would deal with it. He would have to.

Sitting up slowly, holding the sheets over her chest, she squinted at his blurry form. "Have somewhere you need to be, Agreste?"

He set down the mug of tea beside her, bending down to press a kiss to her forehead. "Business trip."

"Mind if—"

He stopped her. "Your line debut is next month. I can't keep poorly explaining why you never seem to make deadlines whenever I'm around."

She chuckled. "I suppose that's true. Business trip for an author, though?"

"A convention of sorts." he had already mentally planned out any potential questions.

It's not that he didn't want Marinette to know that he had an adorable little girl named Emma back in the States, it's just that he didn't want her to be scared away too soon. He knew it was foolish to wish for something more between them, but his feeble heart yearned.

"Pick me up a copy of _Scarlet Hero_?" she blinked her impossibly blue eyes under thick lashes up at him. "It's my favorite."

" _Scarlet Hero_?" it took him a few seconds. "I wrote that!"

"Precisely, Agreste." she hid her smile behind the coffee mug. "I'll reimburse you."

"No need. Anything for an avid fan." he buttoned up his shirt, winking as he did so.

"Avid is such a strong word." she contemplated aloud. "Had you said addicted or obsessed, I may have let it slide."

There was that feeling again. Curtains slightly drawn, morning light fell across her speckled skin, only visible if you were practically nose-to-nose. It was one of the most endearing qualities about her. That, and how she had a way with words that made even a published author swoon.

"See me off at the airport?"

They had established a sort of rhythm since they grew closer to one another, being able to adjust to the other's schedule and routine. Marienette showered and dried her hair while Adrien made a late breakfast for the two, only burning one of the eggs. When Marinette emerged from the bedroom, fully dressed in what could only be described as a glamorous ensemble, she sat down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Adrien washed his hands and set down their plates of food, coming to stand behind her to braid her hair. She had taught him one evening after they watched _The Hunger Games_ together and he pouted how he didn't have long enough hair to braid his own.

"See, you are getting better." she looked at her reflection in her phone screen's camera. "Almost as good as Katniss."

"Hey," Adrien joined her at the table. "no one can be as a good as Katniss."

"You're right, you're right." she agreed, digging into their meal. "I'm so proud of how far you've come in your cooking abilities. You should consider being a part-time chef if the whole author thing doesn't work out."

He rolled his eyes playfully, poking her in the arm. "Dully noted. Maybe you can join me."

"Me? In a kitchen? I may be skilled in a few basic dishes, but I could never handle the stress of the whole kitchen scene. I barely survive fashion week as it is."

"Please, you would blow them all out of the water." Adrien insisted.

When Marinette's face heated, Adrien considered that a small victory.

* * *

Marinette held him close to her once they arrived at the gate, her hand brushing against the small of his back in careful, gentle motions. He did not go in for a goodbye kiss, knowing they would not be apart for long. Two weeks and he would be back in her apartment, watching movies on her couch and burning breakfast for the third day in a row. What he wouldn't give in order to be and stay by her side until their final years together. Even just a few more months would her would satisfy him to no end, for he found something with her he thought he never deserved to find.

He would hopefully clear his head in New York, hoping to write a few more chapters before submitting a draft to Victor. Perhaps he would stop by and visit him and his husband. Hopefully they wouldn't throw him out on his ass after all the shit he put them through over the past couple of years. Deep down, Adrien knew that they wouldn't do that since they secretly had a soft spot for him, no matter how many screw-ups he made.

Not to mention the reuniting of him and his beloved daughter, her matching blonde hair always pulled back into twinning pigtails. To see her again after almost a two years would be the greatest blessing.

On the plane nestled up in the most uncomfortable coach airplane seat, Adrien let his head fall back. He drowned out the commotion of the plane through blaring earbuds, instead concentrating on his own regrets.That one October night when he stumbled into his shared apartment, practically falling across the kitchen table. His daughter was still too young to understand what was going on when she took in his grimy hair, slurred words and heavy movements.

He would never dare do anything drunk or sober even relatively related to unwanted actions towards anyone, but the sight of him unconscious alone was no doubt scarring to her young and impressionable mind. He would never want to harm his daughter, knowing that she did not deserve to see him in that stage of mind.

That year, his then-girlfriend kicked him out, demanding he clean up his act before he even wanted to consider being a father again. He did not argue in the slightest. He knew that he was damaged, addicted to something done by his own hand. If he didn't even want to look at his own reflection in the mirror, how could he let her see _him_?

Adrien stepped off the plane jet lagged and dazed, suitcase bobbing behind him and nipping at his ankles. He was not completely sober, but refused himself to go back to the way his dark past dictated him to be. Never again.

After an excruciatingly long taxi ride, he stood before Catherine's apartment door. His hand hovered in front of the wood, hesitant and shaking.

_It was now or never._

Catherine emerged, Emma in tow. Her gorgeous features never did falter, eyes carrying the brightness that Adrien had once fell in love with. Emma tackled his legs, holding onto him so tightly he thought he might burst a blood vessel.

" _Chaton_!" he cooed, picking her up and kissing her cheeks. "Look how big you've gotten!"

Emma opened her mouth wide. "Look! I lost almost all of my teeth!"

Adrien smiled, congratulating her before claiming how fast she was growing up. Catherine stepped aside to allow him entry to her apartment. The interior decor did not change, even after all the years that separated the two of them. The walls were still a faint mocha shade, the granite countertop unchanging. He both found comfort in the familiarity and discomfort at how the kitchen table glared him, an incessant reminder of his past.

He ate a late dinner with the two of them, opting for a glass of water instead of the tempting bottle of red wine left on the counter. Catherine watched carefully as Adrien bonded with their daughter, playing with his food just as she did too often. He paid full child support and then some, gently assuring himself that she would grow up happy and healthy. Catherine never contacted him outside of a monthly photo of how Emma was faring. Most involved her wearing floral printed dresses and shiny black shoes. The outfits she wore to church more often than not.

He stayed to watch a movie with them, settling on a classic Disney animated one before heading out and back to his overpriced hotel room. Texting Marinette to assure that he was indeed still alive and had made it safely to the hotel, he slipped his phone back into his pocket.

Heading out the lobby's wide glass doors with his computer bag hanging loosely at his hip, he set off to a nearby church he knew would let him in. After becoming good friends with the priests and pastors, he stepped inside and took a deep whiff of the sharp wood smell. He was not particularly religious, but found himself drawn to the wooden pews placed in rows and the stained glass windows.

Settling down on one of the many benches, a few lingering strangers sat in prayer. They murmured mostly, hands clasped together as Adrien focused back on the tall glass windows. He always felt a sense of serenity and calm whenever he came.

"Dear God, if you're listening, please do not let me stray too far from my path. I have made decisions I deeply regret in my past, growing from said events slowly but surely. I wish to be there for my daughter above all." his computer rest beside him like a crutch, patiently awaiting his next move. "Share my happiness with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, if that's not too much to ask. She hides her pain away, neglecting the fact that she is surrounded by those her love her. Promise me that whatever happens you will be there for Emma and Marinette."

_Please._

* * *

Halfway across the world, Marienette sat chained to her desk while designs mocked her. She moved over onto the couch in her office, kicking off her obnoxiously tall pumps, sprawling across the cushions as someone knocked at her door.

"Better be important!" she called out, rolling over to see Alya approaching with a heavy bag. "Alya?"

"No, I'm Nino." she joked, handing off the food. "Got your favorite for dinner tonight. Thought you could use some real food every once and a while."

Marinette picked up the reusable containers packed tightly with delicious looking and smelling food. "What's this?"

Alya grinned. "Nino stopped by a 24/7 bakery to pick up fresh blondies per my request."

She even had the audacity to add a wink at the end of her sentence. "Seeing as how you've already been eating it all week."

Face and ears heating up, Marinette threw a couch cushion with all of her force at Alya who dodge just in time. Unfortunately, the cushion knocked off an intricately painted vase containing a couple of roses. They both winced.

"Don't worry, that was an ugly vase anyway." Marinette reassured.

"I bought you that vase!"

Marinette picked up another pillow. "Make one more blondie joke, I swear to God."

Alya eventually left her alone, safely avoiding another vase incident. Marinette sat back on the couch and picked up a blondie. She realized she loved Adrien when she returned back to her empty apartment, sending her into a sense of dread that something was wrong. Nothing was wrong, she just remembered that Adrien wasn't there to fill the emptiness. His laughter wasn't heard through the apartment. His obnoxious choice of movie for the night wasn't playing on the TV. The alarming burnt smell that usually permeated from the stove didn't linger in the air.

Moving to her balcony that hung over the generous view of the city, she leaned against the railing. She shivered but she didn't want to go back inside just yet.

"I want to tell you, I really do. But I wouldn't even know where to start." she whispered to herself, hating the sound of how frail her voice sounded. "Please come back home to me."

* * *

**_4:44 a.m._ **

**_To:_ ** _Adrien Agreste_

 **Marinette** _I miss you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They actually communicate their feelings and intentions towards each other the next chapter I promise! 
> 
> Also, I wanted to change the blondies to éclairs to be more French, but then we wouldn't have the perfect Alya and Marinette back and forth. (If you don't know what blondies are they are like brownie texture and shape but taste like cookies!)
> 
> Stay safe and till next time!


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette's fashion show officially commences in Milan. Adrien arrives late, but he makes sure to be there no matter what. Even if he is a little late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Currently binging 40's/50's classic movies and songs and wow I love Ms. Audrey Hepburn thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

When Adrien's flight got delayed due to an onslaught of an unexpected snowfall, he had postponed his return to Paris. Then, his daughter fell ill. He stayed even longer.

Spending long hours in his old shared New York apartment while his daughter was slowly nursed back to health and her mother worked, he downed another mug of coffee and ended up finishing his novel. Lacking a proper title was where it went all wrong. He wrote papers up papers of potential names, but none of them felt worthy enough. He had a pile of ever-growing crumpled balls of paper at his side at all times. He didn't have enough time to find one before sending it off to his editor, who met him with an uneasy countenance. 

Victor sat at his desk, a hand carding through his silver hair. He read the plot over and over, never even pursing his lips in thought. Adrien did not know whether to take that as a good or bad sign.

"It feels incomplete." he said at last.

"What?"

Victor leaned forward. "Unfinished. Missing the specific event that ties the whole story together in one big, fat bow."

Adrien clenched his jaw, knowing that it was true. "What can I do?"

"Revise and retype. Clearly spending time in Paris did you some good. However—"

Adrien groaned. "I hate that word."

"—However, Cetrine magically forgiving Stéphan is unbelievable. Make your audience _feel_ that pain every chapter was built upon. You set yourself up a solid foundation only for her refuse to use it." Victor sighed heavily. "Understood, Adrienka?"

He stood up from his chair, snatching back his acclaimed, unfinished book. For hours something prodded at the back of his mind for some sort of resolution that Victor perfectly understood was missing. He wanted to run up to him and just demand that Victor tell him what to do. Of course, it was never that easy but it was worth a shot. Right? No, of course not. Victor wasn't the type to let him half-ass something. That was never in his character. Then, something struck Adrien so suddenly he nearly stumbled back in his place.

Perhaps Cetrine did not need Stéphan.

* * *

Marinette watch the rain slip down the window panes, a fingertip pressed against the cool glass. Her show that was being held in Milan would make its debut in less than two days. She would spend the week of stressing over every little detail, a relentless twinge of anxiety pooling itself in her gut. Everything had to go perfectly since it was a while since she publicly put anything out. Even a stumbling model down the runway, a broken heel or a tear in the dress could upset the entire show.

Adrien had yet to return, the space on her mattress never feeling colder. Alya and Nino frequented her apartment as often as they could, but it never felt the same. She hoped that he would at least be in attendance, solely being a familiar face for her to look out for in case she needed that last bit of reassurance that everything would go exactly as planned. She even bought him a front row seat, but she wasn't too sure if it would be filled or not come the day of the show.

"Heading home soon, Madame?" her secretary, a springy little woman with the prettiest strawberry blonde hair asked.

Marinette logged off her computer with a heavy sigh. "Clarice, how do you feel about attending my fashion show in Milan as my plus one?"

Clarice's eyes blew wide open. "I would be honored to, Madame!"

"Wonderful," she slipped on her coat and tied the matching belt to her waist. "we leave tomorrow and I expect you to be on time at the airport."

"Yes, Madame." Clarice nodded, bowing her head out of respect. "I won't let you down."

_I won't let you down._

She only hoped that they would reign true.

* * *

Marinette ended up boarding the lavish plane aside her secretary who was out like a lamp upon takeoff. Reclining back in her first class seat, she rejected a glass of the bubbling champagne and was thinking of the one person she wished was sitting beside her. He would probably be gloating over how he knew the best movie to watch for the flight and would demand that she watch it with him. Not too long ago they had watched _Fight Club_ which had left her more confused than anything else. Adrien had taken to making sure that they did not discuss the details of the plot afterward, insisting that the first rule was to not speak of it. She didn't question it after she saw the look of determination on his face.

Adrien had yet not texted her back after they arrived in Milan, leaving her to incessantly checkher phone before a scheduled show rehearsal. Caline Bustier, her manager, guided her lightly by the arm towards the revolving hotel doors. Caline always knew whenever Marinette was about to push herself off the edge-always testing her limits, daring to make that final stretch. She did not need Adrien there beside her.

But it would have been nice.

Rehearsal went smoothly, Marinette still biting her nails out of nervous habit throughout the whole thing. Caline brought her hand up to gently coax Marinette out of her anxious stupor.

"I'm sorry." her voice was barely heard over the chatter of her models.

"Don't apologize," Caline assured. "you have just as much the right to be nervous as the others."

Wringing her hands over one another, playing with the ring her mother gifted her years ago, she nodded faintly. "You're right."

She wished that her parents were also there to see her show. Sometimes it felt like they were still alive somewhere. Marinette sometimes had to do a double-take when walking down the street if she thought someone looked a little too much like her parents or if she thought she had heard their voices. All she wanted was to hear her mother wish her good luck and for her father to tell her that everything would turn out beautifully in the end. And after the show they would play a Mario Kart tournament while snacking on fresh croissants. Some would have the chocolate in them that she adored, too.

Excusing herself from Caline's side, she darted into one of the backstage rooms and locked the door behind her. Pressing her back up against the door, her chest heaved. She couldn't breathe and her vision filled with fat, hot tears. Her legs gave her, making her slowly fall to the floor as she cried. She hated crying, always trying to put on the brave face. She had to be the one to pick herself up. She had to be the one who would make it out okay. She _had_ to be okay.

After several minutes of letting everything out and substantially draining her, she picked herself up and wiped at her eyes. Her reflection seemed to mock her as she took in her red eyes, snotty nose and running mascara. But none of that mattered now.

She had a show to run.

* * *

Sleepless nights passed before she had begun giving up on as much as a word from Adrien. She rose out of bed, showered and dressed. Each button along her burgundy blazer took an exponentially dragging amount of time. She solely blamed the trembling of her hands that never seemed to cease ever since she arrived in Milan.

Caline had to do her makeup instead, hand steady as Marinette distracted herself by taking in her manager's fiery scarlet hair that was pinned back as usual. The flames contrasted the paleness of her skin, offsetting the ocean stillness of her eyes. She wasn't just her manager, no. Marinette saw her as a guardian after the passing of her parents. Taking her in when she was just a struggling, recently graduated fashion student.

"Thank you," Marinette murmured, smoothing down the front of her jacket and matching slacks. "I don't know why I'm like this all of the sudden."

"You're going to be perfect." Caline patted her cheek comfortingly. "Silence that phone and lets put on a show."

Mere seconds after Marinette left her phone charging on the little hotel's bedside table, she received a long awaited text message.

**Adrien:** _I'm on my way._

* * *

Adrien was consistently failing to arrive in Milan after numerous flight changes, layovers and at some point lost luggage. He didn't seem to care about it as much when he checked the time to see that he could just make it.

Just maybe.

When his taxicab pulled up to the fashion show, they were packing up. Chairs were being folded and sets were being taken down. Adrien searched everywhere in hopes that he could just see her face even for just a second.

"Adrien?" her voice was quiet as she approached from behind him. "You came."

She was a vision in her burgundy pantsuit, her dark hair bound tightly in a bun at the nape of her neck. Golden accents trailed along her ears and collarbone while a circlet lay nestled in her hair. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, but it would never be enough.

Adrien melted into her hesitant touch still lingering against his cheek. "I'm sorry I'm late."

Resting her forehead against his, they simply listened to each other's breathing, counting their shared heartbeats. He showed up when she needed him most, albeit later than anyone has ever done in history before.

"Only Aeroflot has kept me waiting as long as you have," Marinette chuckled lightheartedly.

"You are _not_ seriously quoting that show on me right now." Adrien deadpanned.

"It still applies."

"If it helps, I speak decently fluent Italian and can order us takeout."

Marinette scrunched up her nose. "Adrien, it's past ten."

"We're in Italy! Rules don't apply here." he pulled back ever so slightly. "I'll be sure to order the best wine that this city can offer."

Her smile was instantaneously infectious. "How could I say no to that?"

* * *

Hours after they reunited, sweet kisses and brief touches aside, Adrien found himself right back where he started. Laying pressed up against Marinette's side, numbly running his hands through her silky, dark hair.

Officially, they had all the time in the world today. Officially, Adrien did not know where he and Marinette stood.

"Adrien?" her voice came muffled, blocked by a pillow. "You awake?"

He hummed in acknowledgement.

"What's wrong?"

Sitting up fully now, Adrien shifted so Marinette could get a good look at him. At the hollowness in his cheeks, at the bags no amount of makeup could conceal. Wearily, she reached out a hand before retracting it back at her side.

"Who do you want me to you?" he ripped off the band-aid in one quick motion.

"What?"

"Is any of this even real? Am I just someone to temporarily take the pain away?" he knew he sounded accusatory, but pressed on nevertheless. "Please, don't let me believe what could surely only end up one-sided."

Marinette pulled the sheets up to her chest. She remained quiet for a while, just drinking in the look on his face. Golden morning light had filtered in lazily through the curtains that had been left drawn after last night's escapade. It suited the gold in his hair.

"Adrien, I don't know how you may feel, but I believe what we have is real. We may not love each other just yet, and this may still all be new and unfamiliar, but I want to be with you."

Adrian ran a hand through his hair as if to temporarily dodge her confession. He had been anticipating that answer with only minimal lingering doubts. Where he stood with Marinette was complicated in every sense of the word, but one thing for certain was that he wanted to be with her.

"Me too." he admitted slowly.

_I'm in love with you._

* * *

Over a room service breakfast consisting of nearly every fruit imaginable, Adrien brought up the topic of his new book. Victor had been adamant about where he wanted to go with it and unsurprisingly he knew that a change in atmosphere would do Adrien good.

Seeing his daughter again was like opening up a new book. One filled with chapters brimming with beautifully articulated words and formatted to perfection. He hadn't realized how much he missed out on his daughter's childhood, wanting to stay in more direct contact with her and her mother. Emma had influenced numerous chapters in his book now that it had been revised and rewritten, bits and pieces of Marinette stringing along in the fine print as well. He had not exactly revealed the plot line or even the long debated title of the book just yet, but at least he had a clear vision now.

"Nothing I say or do will make up for the fact that I missed your show, which I deeply regret. I'll be sure to make it to the next one and you don't even have to get me a front row seat this time. I'll be happy anywhere as long as I can see you." Adrien reached across the table to grasp her hands in his, warmth radiating from his fingertips as his other hand gently massaged her palm.

"It's a deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! Finally some communication between these two. Things are good and life is good. Oh man. What could go wrong? Will something go wrong? I don't know. I totally forgot about the next chapter until I dig it out and edit/rewrite it. We'll see. *suspicious wink*
> 
> Stay safe and till next time!


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien tells Marinette about Emma and the two of them fly back home to Paris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any good anime recommendations, feel free to drop them in the comments cause your girl needs to find a new one to watch. (Would be greatly appreciated xoxo) ;,,,)

After Marinette's show, her and Adrien stayed up till dawn in her hotel room. They danced and sang, recieving only two or three complaints from the neighboring rooms, but they didn't seem to mind in the slightest. Until the morning sun had begun to drink up all of the night sky, Marinette refrained from asking about where Adrien had gone. She knew that he was lying about having a conference, or whatever it was, in the States. She wanted to wait and let him tell her when he was ready. but a part of her was selfish and demanded to pry.

"Adrien," she said suddenly. "Can I ask you something?"

He rolled over on their bed, his mop of blond hair falling across his face. "Of course."

She crawled over to him and noticed how the light from the window made his features almost appear softer. "Why were you really in New York?"

He went quiet. "I told you it was for a conference."

"Don't lie to me."

Adrien reached for her hand hesitantly before pulling away. "I went to see my daughter."

She was not expecting that kind of answer. "Your--daughter?"

"Her name is Emma and I went to see her and her mother." he clarified. "My ex-girlfriend."

Marinette fell back onto the bed, her vision slightly blurring at the corners of her eyes. "Your ex-girlfriend."

"I haven't seen them in a while and I don't want Emma to grow up with a father. I don't want her to feel the way I did." his voice grew quieter. "Please try and understand."

"You shouldn't have lied to me about that."

"I know, it was stupid of me to think that you wouldn't understand or that you would judge me for it." he finally made eye contact with her. "I'm sorry."

In half a second, Marinette was pushed up in front of him. She didn't say anything for the longest time, their revelations left to settle in the air. Adrien wanted to say something--anything. He hated the silence and wish the two of them could go back to tender kisses and embraces, talking about even the most futile things. He just wanted to hear her voice.

"Do you promise not to lie to me again?" she spoke at last.

"I promise." he said without hesitation.

"Good." she stood up to get ready for the day, leaving Adrien along to his own devices.

Although that small fraction of the trust Adrien had once harbored from her was severed, she knew that his confession was true and she understood his motives. Although she wished that he would have directly told her, she knew that if she were in his position that she would have done the same thing. Bringing up the topic of an ex-partner and your secret child who lived thousand of miles away was not exactly the kind of thing one would bring up on the first date.

She didn't blame him, but it still hurt.

* * *

Returning home from Milan left Marinette pleasantly blissful after their honest conversation. During the flight, Adrien managed to snag a weak, albeit working, connection so he could call his daughter and see her face through the phone. He introduced her to Marinette, both bonding relatively quickly after talking about animals, fruit snacks and coloring for half an hour. Clarice got her seat upgraded to first class after Marinette decided to ride back with Adrien for the remainder of the flight home.

Resting her head against his shoulder, she drifted off to the sound of computer keys being lightly pushed while Adrien worked on his novel. He claimed that time was of the essence and that his editor needed a complete and almost final revised draft by the end of the month, causing him an unnecessary amount of stress. 

More and more often Adrien would spend his evenings alongside Marinette in her apartment, his dingy bed and kitchen not quite the same when compared to a renowned fashion designer's. Alya and Nino frequently joined them on their evening excursions across Paris, soaking up the wintry nightlife accompanied with golden lights strung all around like fireflies in the summertime. Spring was alight, yet mounds of snow lay piled up around the street corners. 

Adrien had a nasty habit of stepping too far off of the sidewalk and falling into a pile, soaking his boots while Marinette had to clutch her chest in laughter. Other than that, nighttime was peaceful and not just seen as something to pass the time with. Now he did not have to waste away with a bottle of liquor to his lips, watching as the hands on the clock slowly spun around and around.

Marinette insisted on him attending an alcoholic anonymous session which he took in full stride. He even made some new friends, two of which were trying to stay sober in order to care for a child at some point. He thought of his own daughter, wondering when she could come and visit him in Paris and visit Marinette.

Hopefully soon.

"Do you think that I would need to baby proof the apartment?" Marinette asked one particularly chilly night, eating a vanilla cone after Adrien begged her to try them out at least once before she died.

"Emma is not a baby."

"Toddler proof?"

Adrien snickered. "I think you will be fine. She is very mature for her age."

"Something she must have gotten from her mother." Marinette laughed, licking her ice cream cone. "I think the gelato in Milan was better than this by the way."

He winced. "Ouch, two insults back to back."

"I wouldn't call them insults." Marinette considered. "I prefer the term 'snide comments'."

"That's the same thing!"

Clicking her tongue in disagreement, Marinette waved an arm all around them. "You've been in the US for far too long."

"One good thing the US has is decent pizza."

"Hah." Marinette stopped in her tracks and laughed. "Sure."

"It's true! Can't get Chicago style deep dish pizza anywhere else."

Marinette leaned in real close, almost to the point of their noses touching. "Maybe you can take me there sometime."

Her voice got real low, and with it, his confidence. Swallowing the lump in his throat thickly, he watched as she licked her lips. Blue eyes locked on his as she leaned in closer. Then, something icy cold met his face. Marinette was now backing away in a bubbling cackle, the reminder of her ice cream planted firmly on his face.

"That's the oldest trick in the book!" she laughed herself into stitches.

Adrien's lips curled into a smirk that can only be described as devious. Catching her face in his palms, he sloppily kissed and nuzzled all over her face until she was squealing in laughter and protests.

"Did you really just copy a scene from _The Notebook_ right now?" Marinette broke apart from his torturous kisses.

"Couldn't stop thinking about it after we saw that movie together." he kissed her again until an elderly couple stopped and stared at them from across the street based on their volume.

"A mistake on my part." Marinette laughed. "Although, I did enjoy seeing you weep when you thought they weren't getting back together."

"I don't care how cute that other man is, he is _not_ Noah." Adrien sputtered in his defense. "Noah and Allie belong together. They are soulmates."

"Sure they are."

"They are!" Adrien plucked a couple of napkins off of a local vendor to wipe at his face. "Unlike the couple in La La Land."

"Terrible movie." Marinette snorted. "Admit it."

"Never."

Tackling him at full force, Adrien almost collapsed right then and there on the street. Marinette was not wearing her usual pair of sunglasses anymore, instead opting for owning her fame opposed to shielding herself away. Slowly the mask she adamantly put up was falling away until only her true self was left.

"My book is being sent out tonight." he moved to fully clasp a hand around hers. "For real this time."

"Revised and everything?"

He nodded with a smile. "I think I like this ending better."

* * *

Half a month later, Adrien was hauling boxes around Marinette's apartment. He made sure to set up his and Marinette's little glass cats wearing ridiculous outfits right next to each other on the shelf. He had then rolled his sleeves up, watching as Marinette unboxed one rather violently.

"Look!" she held up the glossy book cover and gasped. "It's so pretty!"

"You work with priceless fabrics and jewels everyday yet you find a fifteen dollar book pretty?" Adrien quirked a brow.

Marinette hushed him. "Chanel is beautiful, sure, but there's not really a story around the clothing. You can't truly appreciate it in all it's glory unless you produced it yourself."

"Maybe."

"Look at all the words and chapters!" Marinette flipped it open and skimmed through, running a fingertip along the freshly printed paper. "Wow."

"It sounds like you're having a brain aneurysm."

"Papa!" Emma came barreling through the room, colliding with his legs. "What's an anenemyrous?"

"Aneurysm, sweetheart."

"Aneurysm!"

"Very good." he picked her up and kissed her nose. "Look how pretty you are in the dress Marinette made you."

"Pretty!" Emma exclaimed, flaring her arms until the skirt went _whoosh_.

"Come to me whenever you want a new dress, yes?" Marinette stuck her tongue out at Adrien. "I'm allowed to spoil you."

"Yay!"

"That should be the last of the moving boxes, too." Adrien kissed his daughter's cheek before setting her down on the floor.

"Except your movie collection." Marinette pointed over to a heavy box filled to the brim with Adrien's secret love of romcoms and romdrams; romantic comedies and romantic dramas, respectively.

"No way am I dumping that collection." Adrien picked a few up and began filling up the otherwise empty shelves. "Priceless Classics in _the_ highest quality. It's like you can actually reach out and touch Jennifer Aniston."

Marinette smirked. "Jen and I are good friends, actually."

"And you are just telling me this _now_?!"

She merely shrugged, pouring a glass of apple juice for Emma. "So you wouldn't be after me just becuase of my famous friends."

Adrien put away another movie. "Darling, you are famous."

"Is that why you're here?"

"Hah."

"Only after me for my youth and my money." Marinette poured two more glasses of juice for her and Adrien. "I see how it is."

"First of all, you are my age." Adrien sputtered out a laugh. "And secondly—"

Marinette silenced him with a chaste kiss, just long enough so Emma would not see while she chugged away at her glass of apple juice.

"It's almost too easy to tease you."

"Wow."

"Wow!" Emma parroted, her grabby hands reaching for another glass of juice.

"Bonjour!" Alya practically crashed through the front door. "How's my favorite couple?"

"Fully moved in, finally." Marinette embraces her best friend. "How was Spain?"

"Bland, if not overly hot."

"She's lying, she loved it." Nino rolled into the room with their piles of (mostly Alya's) luggage.

After Marinette's trip to Milan a while back, Alya and Nino decided to go on a pre-wedding trip. Needing a break from work and an excuse to sightsee while indulging on overpriced food and all the wine they could imagine, the Césaire-Lahiffe's happily enjoyed their extended vacation courtesy of Marinette's sweet talking.

Apparently their bosses were fans of her work, only needing to be told that they had front row seats at her next show to be persuaded.

"Nice to see being friends with me has its perks." Marinette chuckled.

"You should have seen La Sagrada Familia!" Alya raided their pantry. "It was as if it were heaven itself."

"Gorgeous." Nino agreed.

The couple stayed for another couple of hours watching a movie Adrien picked out while Emma napped on his lap, her sippy cup teetering off of the edge of the soft couch. After leaving Alya and Nino to their own devices, gasping every time the couple broke up again and fought before getting together, Adrien and Marinette draped a fluffy blanket over Emma and kissed her forehead. Wrapping an arm around her waist, Adrien led Marinette out to the little balcony just big enough for the two of them. Overlooking the city skyline, Marinette tucked her head underneath his chin and sighed contently. 

"Who would have thought that we would be here a year ago?" Marinette breathed. "I can't believe we met in a bathroom."

"Can we please change our first meeting?" Adrien pleaded.

Marinette smiled into his side. "Nope."

"Wonderful." he pulled her closer and nuzzled her cheek. "I can't wait to make many more with you."

"Hopefully no more that involve excessive vomiting."

"Hush now."

They fell into a comforting silence for a while, listening to the sounds of night, before Adrien pursed his lips and cleared his throat.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, will you do be the honor of--"

"Adrien Agreste I swear to God if you are proposing to me right now, I will say no." she warned.

He held up his hands partially in defense and partially to show her that his hands were empty. "I was going to ask if you wanted to go to Alya and Nino's wedding as a couple, but good to know where we're at."

Her face grew pink. "Sorry. And I'm not opposed to marriage, just not yet."

"I know it's too soon for us." Adrien assured her, his fingertips dancing along her wrist. "Do you see us getting married in the future?"

She turned away, the heat from her face becoming unbearable. "How would you react if I said I did?"

His expression melted at that, reaching out to turn her lightly head. "I would overjoyed."

And then, out on her little balcony overlooking the city, he held her with no intention of letting go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of feels and lots of love in this chapter. I wanted to write more about Marinette and Emma's first interaction, but I thought that it would be best to let the readers (you lovely people) to determine how it went. 
> 
> Also, when I originally wrote this story I totally forgot to include Alya and Nino's wedding so definitely prepare for that in the next chapter. 
> 
> Stay safe and till next time!


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette finally have a very important conversation. Meanwhile, Alya and Nino's wedding day arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of feels! Lots of love! Prepare yourself! I love it! And you! Ah!

"Your daddy is going to be back any minute now." Marinette was sitting cross-legged on the living room carpet, Emma standing behind her and brushing her hair in large chunks.

"Your hair looks blue."

"Wanna know a secret?" Marinette whispered ominously.

Emma leaned over Marinette's shoulder, nodding enthusiastically.

"This isn't even my natural color." Marinette gasped alongside Emma, the latter giggling in disbelief. "I know right? It looks so good!"

Parting her hair, Emma put half of her hair up in a ponytail and left the rest scattered in multicolored clips. Holding up a handheld mirror, Marinette beamed excitedly at the sight.

Just then, a crash sounded. The door had been forcefully slammed open, Alya pounding into the room a sweaty mess as she tried to swallow down as much air as she could.

"Adrien _fucking_ Agreste just released his book and nobody _fucking_ told me!"

"Alya!" Marinette hissed. "The child!"

Pointing out Emma who had her mouth wide like she was catching flies, Alya apologized. She hurried over and skimmed through the book contents, showing them to her best friend.

"This is totally about you two!"

"No, no. That's not possible." Marinette took the book from her and flipped through a few pages.

The chapters were reflective of their life together, although twisted into a new way that wasn't inherently bad. Each paragraph flowed evenly, as if it were a stream cascading past smooth stones and swimming fish. Everything seemed to fall into place in the end, inevitably spoiling the end for herself at the cost of her curiosity.

"Oh my God."

Alya was squealing, jumping up and down on her toes excitedly. "Isn't this amazing? You and Adrien, two successful and beautiful people in _lovveeee_."

Marinette cleared her throat. "Adrien and I haven't said I love you yet."

Everything came to a screeching halt. Alya practically tackled her, pinning her down with the deadliest frown known to man.

"You've slept together God knows how many times _and you live together on top of that_ and you haven't even said I love you yet?!"

"Alya!" Marinette hissed. "There's a child!"

Alya waved her hand dismissively. "I didn't say anything she hasn't heard already on TV."

"I'm just not ready to say it yet, is that so bad?"

Alya peeled herself off of Marinette. "No, that;s not bad. It's good to not rush things. Do you think he loves you?"

"I don't know, it's possible." Marinette walked over to the fridge and picked out a cup of pudding for Emma. "We practically spend all our time together and it's nice, but love is such a foreign concept to me that I don't think I would even be able to recognize it if it hit me in the face."

"My sweet, sweet Marinette." Alya cooed. "How do you feel when he walks into a room? How do you feel when you lay next to and fall asleep together? How do you feel when you share a meal together? How do you feel when you talk to him?"

"I can't really describe it."

"Perhaps it is love then." Alya said wistfully. "Indescribable."

* * *

Seeing Adrien after work was something Marinette didn't know she needed until her chest was lighter and she felt as if she could finally breathe. They were attempting to make some sort of dinner, although Marinette made Adrien's work look just plain sad. Emma sat at the counter and colored, occasionally sipping from a glass of apple juice.

"Have you ever been in love before?" Marinette blurted out.

Adrien stopped cutting a lopsided bell pepper. "What?"

"You know, outside of your family and friends. And Emma's mom, of course."

Adrien frowned. "I've been in relationships, but love hasn't really been a part of them all that much."

"Oh."

"Are you trying to tell me something?"

Marinette face heated up. "No! Never mind, it's nothing."

"Alright, if you insist." Adrien went back to chopping, although he seemed a bit distracted.

Dinner was a bit more subdued, Marinette poking at her food while Adrien and Emma talked about their favorite animals.

_What was love to her? Was it what she and Adrien had? Was this love? It had to be. This was what love felt like.  
_

Shortly after, Emma was put to sleep while Adrien and Marinette stayed up on the balcony and talked. It wasn't of any importance, just trivial things to pass the time by. That lingering confession reigned in the back of her mind, waiting for her to just out and say it. It was so easy, if only she gained the proper courage to do so.

"I read your book today." Marinette started. "Or at least some of it. Alya came in like a hound and was examining every detail. She said that the main character reminded her of me."

Adrien remained silent for a moment.

"Is that true?"

"Yes." he said it without hesitation.

"Do you love me?" Marinette turned to face him. "Right now, right here. Do you love me?"

Adrien grabbed both of her hands in his, his thumbs tracing small circles along her skin. "What do you think my answer is?"

"If it's not yes, then I would have made a complete fool out of myself." Marinette sighed.

"Impossible." Adrien took a step forward. "Marinette, I do love you. And if we ever decided to get married, whether that be now or in thirty years, know that I will love you just as much as I do now."

"Dammit Agreste, you're going to make my mascara run." Marinette laughed through tears that threatened to fall. "I love you too, you dummy."

Leaning down, Adrien silently asked permission. Marinette accepted, standing on her toes while her arms wrapped around his neck, loving every second of it.

* * *

Alya and Nino's wedding was nothing short of chaotic. Everyone was rushing around to get things done, last minute alterations being made all around the church. They were running late to the church in the first place, making Marinette chase after Alya while holding up her train behind her. They had rented a limousine for the occasion, but they were stuck in traffic for an unbearable amount of time. Well, it was only half an hour, but given their current situation, it felt like an eternity.

"My makeup isn't done and my hair is falling." Alya look as if she was on the verge of tears. "You have to help me!"

"Don't you worry about a thing." Marinette assured her, already starting to carefully comb through her thick curls. "Your sisters are making sure everything is perfect out there."

"I knew that I should have hired a wedding planner. Why didn't I hire a wedding planner? Oh God, I'm starting to rethink every single decision I ever made in my life."

"Try and breathe for me." Marinette guided her through a couple of breathing exercises until she calmed down. "You didn't hire a wedding planner because the one you met with last year kept hitting on you and couldn't take a hint after you caught him staring at... _the ladies_. Then he tried to convince you to do a neon green themed wedding. And then--"

"And that ruined the whole experience for me all together. Right, I remember now." Alya breathed out. "I should have gotten that guy fired. I know I am an absolute treat to look at, but come on, I'm an engaged woman."

"Soon to be married woman." Marinette corrected, talking around three pins in her mouth. "Yes, that looks good."

"If you ever stop being a world famous fashion designer you would make an excellent wedding planner. You could run circles around that one guy." Alya picked up another pin for Marinette.

"I'll keep that in mind." Marinette stepped back to examine her work before nodding in satisfaction. "Alright, makeup."

"Don't make my lashes look too clumpy."

"Alya, please. I've done this for hundreds of models so I like to think that I know what I'm doing." Marinette spun her around in her chair and started on her makeup.

Adrien then burst into the dressing room, earning a sharp exclaim from the both of the women already in there.

"Adrien!" Alya gasped. "What are you doing back here?!"

"Marinette, we sort of have a problem." he looked frantic.

"What?"

"Nino ripped his sleeve and it's too noticeable to let him walk down the aisle like that." he explained.

Alya looked as if she saw a ghost standing in the doorway instead of a very frazzled blond author. "It's a sign!"

"It's not a sign!" Marinette shot back. "Adrien, you're on makeup duty. I always have a sewing kit on me so I can fix this."

" _He's_ doing my makeup?" Alya only barely got out as she left, leaving her and Adrien alone.

"I've been practicing and I can confirm that my eyeliner skills are pretty much maxed out." he assured her, picking up where Marinette left off.

"You two better not be playing some kind of sick prank on me."

"We're not." Adrien worked efficiently and made sure to check the time every now and then to make sure that they weren't falling behind.

When he finished, Alya spun back to face herself in the mirror and was pleasantly surprised. "I should have you do this more often."

"Thank you." he helped her out of her chair. "You look beautiful, by the way."

"You don't look so bad yourself." she looked him up and down. "Dating a fashion designer must come in handy."

"That it does."

* * *

"How did you tear it again?" Marinette was bending down to get a better angle to sew while Nino went on about his little 'accident'.

"I was reaching for a donut, you know how I stress eat, and my sleeve caught on a nail or something hanging out of the door! And it was like _riiippp_ and I was like ' _Oh shit_ ' and then Adrien ran to get you and here we are." he explained rather animatedly, much to Marinette's distress.

"You're lucky Alya made sure to have the bridesmaids dresses have pockets or we would have been in trouble." Marinette pulled the thread through the fabric a final time, standing back to admire her work. "Well, I also designed the dresses, but I'm happy that she used my design. And voila!"

"Thank you!" he embraced her a little to excitedly for her liking.

"You're welcome." she replied simply. "Now, we have a wedding to start."

* * *

"Wait!" Marinette ran over right as she was about to walk down the aisle with her escort. "I forgot about this."

Alya would have hugged her if she didn't want to wrinkle her dress. "I can't believe you actually did it!"

"Of course!" Marinette shrugged. "But it's a rental, so be careful with it."

Marinette nestled the multi-million dollar diamond encrusted tiara, rented from a very well known designer, into Alya's dark curls. Readjusting her veil behind her, Marinette smiled at her before taking Adrien's extended arm. Seeing as he was Nino's best man and she was Alya's maid of honor, the pair walked down the aisle together, both wondering when it would be their turn. Emma was their flower girl, dancing around and spilling petals everywhere, much to the lively crowds' amusement. Adrien comfortingly squeezed her hand as they made their way past the lines of pews and up to where Nino was standing. 

He began to cry once he saw Alya. 

Adrien tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a handkerchief while he sniffled and beamed at his beautiful and breathtaking bride.

The ceremony commenced as one normally would, running through their own personal vows and promises made towards one another. By the time they were announced as husband and wife, Alya was being kissed like it was her last day on earth. Marinette looked away out of respect while quietly applauding, noticing how Alya's grandparents did not look all that pleased. They were happy to see their granddaughter be married, but they still looked confused if nothing else. Marinette didn't blame them.

"We're married!" Nino rose his and his new bride's hands in the air, earning even more applause.

Marinette and Adrien could not be more overjoyed at the sight as they turned away from the happy couple to one another, both blushing on instinct. In the end, they didn't mind it so much.

* * *

After the ceremony, Adrien was dancing with Marinette at the reception, the lights turned off, leaving only a fluorescent purple hue bouncing along the high ceiling and cream walls. He held her close, resting his head near the crook of her neck after watching Emma dance with the younger guests of the wedding invitees. The two of them swayed to the gentle music, following their own rhythm as Marienette was suddenly dipped backwards.

She quirked a brow at him. "What could you possibly be insinuating, Agreste?"

He brought her up to his height, their lips mere centimeters apart. "I would love to see you in a wedding dress one day."

She hummed knowingly. "I have a bridal collection coming out soon, you know. I wouldn't mind modeling it for you."

His eyes lit up. "Is that so?"

"But the entry fee is quite high and I don't know if you would be able to afford it." she teased.

Adrien brought up one her hands and pressed a kiss to it. "And what might that be?"

"One engagement ring."

"I can arrange that." he close his eyes and kissed her, the two of them holding each other until the first light of dawn peaked over the horizon.

* * *

 **Epilogue** _page 427_

 _Love was strange sometimes. One day you could meet_ _someone in a bar drunk out of your mind and suddenly everything would change forever. But that's all just a part of what we call life._

_—Adrien Agreste_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! It's been one hell of a journey aand I can't believe that when I originally wrote this that I didn't even think to include Alya and Nino's wedding. I hinted at it throughout the entire story only to not even use it in the end? Hmmmm
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it and I want to thank you with all of my heart and tell you all how much your support means to me. I love you all so much! It's crazy! Thank you! Ah!
> 
> Stay safe and till next time! (Or should I say the next book? Once again, I love you all! So much!) <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3


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